"Perfectly!" snapped Rockwell, in anger.
"There's no license," remarked Deborah, slowly.
"Indeed, Miss Travis, I protest—it isn't necessary. This is perfectly legal. It is customary—quite customary. You will have the oaths of two witnesses; though, indeed, with Sir Charles's honor, those are not needed. Let us go on at once."
"Sure you must go on now, Miss Debby. Think of the time o' night!"
"Come—come, child," and Fairfield started towards her, with a little gleam of anger in his eyes.
Deborah shrank back against the stairs; but, lo! with an adroit movement, Claude was at her side, with evident intention of interposing.
"You shall not use force," he remarked, quietly.
"— — you! You French hound! Out of my way! I'll have you know your place!"
"I am aware of my place, Sir Charles Fairfield." He stepped quickly in front of Deborah. "If this lady is forced into any action contrary to her desire, it shall be because my sword is broken."
There was barely a second's pause, then came a little whipping sound as two blades were drawn. Claude sprang on guard as Fairfield lunged. There was a flash of steel. The Frenchman made the riposte, and his sword just pierced the white ruffled shirt of his opponent, breaking the skin. The lieutenant paid no attention to it. De Mailly returned into tierce, and parried the second attack with immaculate grace. Rockwell, his eyes wide with interest, dropped his book and came over to watch the duel. It did not endure, however. After Sir Charles' third unsuccessful attempt to break the French guard, he felt his sword-blade seized, lifted, and himself pushed back. Claude's blade dropped. Deborah had taken command of the situation. Drawing Sir Charles' sword out of his passive hand, she gave it to Miriam Vawse, who had sunk into a chair, on the verge of hysteria. In helpless amazement she received the rapier, finding strength nevertheless to rise and go with it towards the stairs as Deborah spoke to her in whispered imperative. Presently, then, Deborah was alone with the rector, the Count, and Sir Charles. All three paid tribute to her supremacy with expectant silence. Fairfield was sunk in desperate dejection, Rockwell merely amazed, Claude mentally reeling, for the horizon of his life was changed. It was a blank no longer. Many things were taking shape upon it. He was prepared, when Deborah took two or three hesitating steps towards him, and said, in a half-whisper: