Abbot Faustus had sunk upon his knees by the altar, and was now telling his beads, but though his spiritual eyes might be directed towards heaven, his earthly vision was certainly fixed upon the two combatants, as Katina observed to Zabern.
"Well, he can cite Moses as a precedent," remarked the marshal, as he sat down to watch the fray. Loving a good fight, Zabern viewed the present spectacle with a real sense of enjoyment, untroubled by any doubt as to the result.
The Czar, with his strong liking for everything military, was likewise in his element. He sat, bent forward, resting the point of his sabre upon the pavement, and his hands upon the hilt, prepared to view the display of swordsmanship with the critical eye of a maître d'armes, as confident in the triumph of Bora as Zabern was in that of Paul.
The Duke of Bora, burning to distinguish himself in the presence of the Czar, and apparently desirous of terminating the combat in the shortest space of time possible, made so furious an attack upon Paul that the latter could do no more than remain on the defensive. So weighty was the descent of Bora's blade that Paul's arm tingled at each shock; so swift his tierce that his sabre-point was often swept aside when within an inch only of Paul's breast. In truth the eye could scarcely follow the movement of the blades, which in their rapidity resembled flashes of light, rather than pieces of steel wielded by human hands.
The duke pressed his adversary yet harder, compelling him to recede inch by inch to the end of his tether, a retrogression which, added to the fact that Paul did not return the cut and thrust of his opponent, occasioned grave misgiving in the minds of the Polish spectators.
"Our champion has degenerated since the day he surprised us in the salle d'armes," murmured the premier in alarm.
"Bah! my good Radzivil," returned Zabern confidently, "cannot you see that he is letting the duke exhaust himself? Bora is rash in thus pouring out his strength like water. This is too violent to last long. Ah! said I not so? First blood to us!"
The duke had failed to preserve his guard, and as a result Paul's weapon had penetrated his side to the depth of a quarter of an inch, a feat performed with such quickness that though all were watching, few perceived it.
"The duke is wounded."
"He is not."