"Then nothing remains to settle but the hour and place," said the general, suavely.
"Will half-past five be too early?" asked Austin Ambrose.
"No hour will be too early for us, sir," said the general, blandly, "and I would recommend the field behind the hospital. It is quiet and secluded at that hour——"
Austin Ambrose assented, and the general looked at his watch.
"My mission is finished, sir," he said. "Pray convey my devoted respects to the earl."
Austin Ambrose bowed him out, and then returned to his room and completed his preparations. He sat down and wrote a short note.
"The meeting is for half-past five in the field behind the hospital. Do not wait for me. I have gone into the town and will join you to the minute."
He rang the bell and gave the note to Blair's valet, then locking the door, flung himself on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep, but the effort failed for a time.
His acute brain was still at work picturing the incidents as he imagined them. At half-past five he and Violet would be speeding over the frontier. Blair would go to meet Prince Rivani; they would wait a quarter of an hour, half, perhaps; and then, the prince growing impatient, the general would offer to act as second for Blair; the two men would fight, and there would be no doubt as to which would fall. With pistols, Blair, who was a good shot, would stand something of a chance; but with swords, Rivani, whose skill was proverbial, must win. With his eyes closed he could see Blair lying stretched out upon the ground, with a thin streak of crimson creeping snake-like across the breast of his shirt, and at the vision a fiendish smile of satisfaction curved his lips.
Then he must have slept, for presently the sound of a church bell smote upon his ear, and with a start he sprung from the bed, and stealthily drew the curtains a little apart.