"Do you deem me a person of so little honor?"
"This scrutiny is so enjoined by the rubric," remarked the herald, as he subjected Bora to the same inspection.
The weapons next occupied the herald's attention.
The duke had come prepared for the contest, and hence his blade was of the length prescribed by the statute; Paul's sword fell short of this by two inches, and though he much preferred to fight with his own weapon, the herald would not permit him to do so.
"My blade is of the requisite length," said Zabern, "and I can warrant it tried steel. Take it; you will make it historic. It has already shed the blood of a cardinal; why not that of a duke? There will be a sort of poetic justice in despatching the princess's two enemies with the same weapon."
"You seem very confident, marshal," sneered Bora.
"Very confident, your grace. You see there's no princess to intervene this time."
The herald having tested the length and flexibility of Zabern's sword returned it to the marshal, saying, as he did so,—
"Pierce your skin with the point."
Zabern instantly pricked the palm of his hand till the blood flowed, while the duke did the like with his own weapon.