A knock on the outer door rang through the hall; this time we took two steps up and down simultaneously.
"Swords!" she continued, "for you would fight?"
I nodded.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "swords are no true ordeal. Skill--it is skill, not justice, which directs the thrust."
I fancied that I comprehended the cause of her fear, and I laughed cheerfully.
"I have few good qualities," said I, "but amongst those few you may reckon some proficiency with the sword." I ascended two steps.
"So," she replied, with an indefinable change of tone, "you are skilled in the exercise?" But she stood where she was.
Otto Krax came from the inner part of the house and crossed to the door.
"It is my one qualification for a courtier."
Since Ilga had omitted to take the two steps down, I deemed it right to take four steps up.