The innkeeper's knife was so close that I could feel the point of it
against my ribs. So I gave up the wild idea of yelling from the window
that I hadn't run away.
The lieutenant's opponent shrugged. He placed himself on guard; that
was his reply. Suddenly the two sprang forward, and the clash of
swords followed. I could not keep track of the weapons, but I could
see that the youngster was holding his own amazingly well. Neither was
touched the first bout.
"Two minutes," murmured the old rascal at my side. "It will be over
this time."
"You seem to have a good deal of confidence in your young man," said I.
"There is not a finer swords--swordsman in the kingdom, or on the
continent, for that matter. There! they are at it again."
Step by step the lieutenant gave ground; the clashing had stopped; it
was needle-like work now. Gradually they began to turn around. The
blades flashed in the moonshine like heat lightning. My pulse attuned
itself to every stroke. I heard a laugh. It was full of scorn. The
laugh--it recalled to me a laugh I had heard before. Evidently the
youngster was playing with the veteran. I became fascinated. And
while the innkeeper and I watched a curious thing happened. Something
seemed to be slipping from the youngster's head; he tried to put up his
free hand, but the lieutenant was making furious passes! A flood of
something dimly yellow suddenly fell about the lad's shoulders. Oh,
then I knew! With a snarl of rage I took the inn-keeper by the throat
and hurled him, knife and all, to the floor, dashed from the room,
thence to the stairs, down which I leaped four at a time. Quick as I
was, I was too late. The lieutenant's sword lay on the grass, and he
was clasping his shoulder with the sweat of agony on his brow.
"Damnation!" he groaned; "a woman!" Then he tottered and fell in the
arms of his subordinate. He had fainted.
"This will make a pretty story," cried the young officer, as he laid
his superior lengthwise, and tried to staunch the flow of blood.
"Here's a man who runs away, and lets a woman--God knows what
sort--fight his duels for him, the cur!"
I never looked at him, but went straight to Gretchen. Stahlberg gave
me a questioning glance, and made a move as though to step between.
"Stand aside, man!" I snapped. "Gretchen, you have dishonored me."