The Duchess paused and leaned on the sword, holding it point to the floor.
"By whose orders was this thing done?" she demanded.
The lad was silent. He disdained to tell tales even on his enemies. Was he not a gentleman and a Dane?
"By mine, my lady!" said Werner von Orseln, a deep flush upon his manly brow.
The girl looked severely at him. She seemed to waver. "Good, then!" she said, "the Dane shall fight Werner for his life. Loose him and chafe his wrists. Ho! there—bring a dozen swords from the armoury!"
The flush was now rising to the boy's cheek.
"I thank you, Duchess," he said. "I ask no more than this."
"Faith, the Sparhawk is not tamed yet," said Boris; "we shall see better sport ere all be done!"
"Hold thy peace," growled Jorian, "and look."