As plenty of space would be required for the coming bout, the ladies arose, the chairs were removed, and a wide circuit formed.
"A thousand roubles to a hundred that the Englishman succeeds," said Zabern to Dorislas, who seeing confidence written large on the marshal's face, declined the wager.
This fifth contest formed a brilliant finale.
Smarting under what they considered contemptuous disparagement, and eager to punish the vanity of the Englishman, Brunowski and Nikita pressed hard upon Paul. Each was no mean fencer, though much inferior to Zabern, and Paul was quickly compelled to retreat from the silver line upon which he had at first planted himself. The previous work seemed child's play when compared with this. The interchange of cut and thrust was so swift that the eyes of the spectators failed to follow the dazzling motions of the weapons. Despite their endeavors the two men failed to touch Paul, who at last saw his opportunity. With one powerful stroke he shivered Nikita's blade to fragments, and almost simultaneously he planted the button of his sabre upon Brunowski's breast.
The members of the assembly looked at one another in breathless wonder. Among a people who, like the Czernovese, retain much of the spirit of the feudal age, he is most in esteem who is best able to defend himself. In one sense, therefore, Paul was the foremost man in the principality. The resentment previously felt against him had now changed to unalloyed admiration.
"Such swordsmanship was never seen in Czernova," cried Juliska.
"Ten thousand devils!" muttered Zabern to himself. "Why did her Highness intervene in the duel yesterday?"
And then aloud he added,—
"Ladies and lords, we must all admit that his grace of Bora has much reason to be grateful to the princess."
No one ventured to controvert this statement.