"Oh, I wish you hadn't done this, Baldos," cried Beverly, panic-stricken.
"You have threatened my life. I shall not forget it, fool. Here is the precious note, your highness, with my condolences to the writer." Marlanx passed the note to her and then looked triumphantly at the guard. "I daresay you have done all you can, sir. Do you wish to add anything more?"
"What can one do when dealing with his superior and finds him a despicable coward?" said Baldos, with cool irony. "You are reputed to be a brave soldier. I know that to be false or I would ask you to draw the sword you carry and—" He was drawing his sword as he spoke.
"Baldos!" implored Beverly. Her evident concern infuriated Marlanx. In his heart he knew Baldos to be a man of superior birth and a foeman not to be despised from his own station. Carried away by passion, he flashed his sword from its sheath.
"You have drawn on me, sir," he snarled. "I must defend myself against even such as you. You will find that I am no coward. Time is short for your gallant lover, madam."
Before she could utter a word of protest the blades had clashed and they were hungry for blood. It was dark in the shadows of the trees and the trio were quite alone with their tragedy. She heard Baldos laugh recklessly in response to Marlanx's cry of:
"Oh, the shame of fighting with such carrion as you!"
"Don't jest at a time like this, count," said the guard, softly. "Remember that I lose, no matter which way it goes. If you kill me I lose, if I beat you I lose. Remember, you can still have me shot for insubordination and conduct unbecoming—"
"Stop!" almost shrieked Beverly. At risk of personal injury she rushed between the two swordsmen. Both drew back and dropped their points. Not a dozen passes had been made.
"I beg your highness's pardon," murmured Baldos, but he did not sheathe his sword.