"But it was not so, Princess; it was the Baron who fell."
Frina Mavrodin had also risen from the table, her hands clasped firmly together in her excitement, and a little sigh of relief echoed Dumitru's words.
"A new experience for Baron Petrescu," she said calmly.
"Ah, Countess, this Englishman is a devil," the man went on rapidly. "I had it from one who watched the fight. There was little moon, and the light was dancing and treacherous. The Baron used all the art which before has brought death when he willed, but this English Captain cared not. He knew all the Baron's art, and besides something which the Baron knew not. The Baron would have been killed had not those who were watching saved him."
"They interfered?" said the Princess.
"Yes, to save the Baron."
"They did not stop at that?" said the Countess eagerly. "Tell me what happened."
"Have I not said he is a devil?" answered Dumitru. "They rushed upon him and he fought them all. A sword thrust here, a blow with his fist there, a savage breaking through them, and he escaped—unhurt."
"Splendid!" exclaimed Frina, her face aglow.
"Splendid, Frina? Is not the Baron our friend?" Yet there was a glow in
Maritza's eyes, too.