A duel with swords has this distinct advantage over a duel with pistols: you need have no concealment concerning it; the day before it is spoken of as an interesting wager would be. In former times it happened rarely that a duel with swords had a fatal ending, and therefore it is surrounded with none of the mystery that attends the more serious affair; for the seconds, likewise, there is far less responsibility. If a principal gets severely hurt, the attending surgeon declares that the sufferer has not died of the wound, but that there was some trouble in the organism which would have probably killed him within the next forty-eight hours. And who, nowadays, would make a fuss over a man who was doomed to die in forty-eight hours?

The duel which was to take place between the Marquis Salista and Ivan was spoken of at the club with indifference, as a thing that had a foregone conclusion. Salista spoke most of it himself, and at six o'clock the evening before stood at the chimney-piece and entertained a select group of friends, among whom were the four seconds, with his ideas on the subject.

The golden youth of Pesth, being in the habit of having constant fencing-bouts at the different gymnasiums, know well who is the most skilful fencer, and are therefore able to predicate, accurately enough in many cases, what the result will be. Salista had the reputation of being a first-rate swordsman; he had already fought several duels, and always been the victor; he had one particular stroke, a master-stroke, which few fencers could parry; it was a quick thrust in the stomach, which, passing round the point of his adversary's sword, ripped up his abdomen. If the other intercepted the thrust, he was likely to get out of time, so that his face, being left uncovered, was exposed to a well-delivered thrust which would spoil his beauty, if it did not have more dangerous consequences. Some men would have felt that the circumstances connected with the preceding duel required explanation, that the refusal to stand your adversary's fire had a doubtful sound. For a similar offence others had been rigorously punished by having to leave Vienna for some weeks, and being sometimes kept in Coventry even longer. Salista was, however, a privileged person; his courage was not called in question. He was, moreover, a cool hand, and carried off his difficult position with the most astounding aplomb. As he now stood upon the rug he talked with a good deal of swagger as to what would happen on the morrow.

"We shall see what stuff this Admirable Crichton is made of. Sword-exercise is not like pistol-shooting; there can be no mathematics. We will ask him how he construes the under-cut when the sabre takes his legs from under him."

Count Geza rebuked the boaster. "You must remember," he said, "that Ivan acted towards you in the most chivalrous manner when he accepted the sword instead of the pistol, and you must also consider that he is a man of learning, very much thought of, and likely to be of service in his generation."

"Very good. You needn't be afraid, I shall not kill him; I shall only slice a piece off his nose, that he may carry home a souvenir of Pesth. A scholar like him will not care if his beauty is spoiled; science is not sniffed up like snuff, and his nose is no use for looking through the telescope at the stars."

Here Edmund interfered, and protested hotly against any injury being done to the nose of his principal. At last the marquis had to content himself with a slice off his ear; but Edmund still remonstrated.

"You should be satisfied with a cut on his hand," he said; "the whole matter is not worth more."

Count Stefan here made a suggestion in his quiet way.

"My good Salista, what if this coal-heaver were to cut you down?"

"What!" blustered the marquis, standing with long legs apart in front of the chimney-piece. "To show you what I think of him, I will give him two points; I will let him have two cuts at me on my arm, and then I will cut him down. You shall see! You can make your bets. Who holds the wager?" So he went on boasting until the discussion came to an end. His last question was whether the seconds would be quick enough to interfere before he made a cripple of their great scholar.

On the following day the two parties met. The large ball-room in the hotel had been thought the most suitable place, as it was generally hired for such occasions. The seconds had chalked the floor with pulverized chalk to prevent the combatants from slipping. In an adjoining room both the principals had to strip to the waist; then they were led into the room. There was no necessity to draw lots as to the placing of the men, as the room was panelled all round with looking-glasses. Before they were given the sabres the following conditions were read out:

"First blood. Stabbing is not allowed."

Salista protested. He would not hear of first blood. The duel should go on until one of the combatants declared himself no longer able to fight. Every one tried to persuade him to be more moderate, but he would not give in.

"Give us the swords!" cried Ivan, out of all patience. "I am getting a chill, half-naked as I am."

This interruption decided the matter. The paces were measured, the principals placed in position, and their swords handed to them.

Both were naked to their waists. Salista exhibited Herculean muscles, Ivan had a well-developed form. He had certainly not so much flesh as his adversary, but was bony, had long arms, and a vaulted chest. The fight began in the usual manner. Both men held the points of their swords towards each other, had the left hand drawn back, and their heads protected by their arms. Now and again they crossed their swords dexterously, trying to find a place for a good thrust, and striking one another softly. Each stared into his adversary's eyes, seeking to read his intentions. Salista essayed to give his adversary a thrust which would injure his face. This was very difficult, for the face is always protected by the arm. Ivan, on his side, endeavored to give his opponent the double thrust. This requires extraordinary agility; but he succeeded. He tore the top muscle of Salista's right arm the whole way down. That this blow does not bleed at once is explained by the cellular texture of the muscles.

"Forward!" cried Salista. "No blood!"He now gave up all efforts at injuring his adversary in the face, and resorted to his well-known trick, the belly-thrust, which is difficult to parry, and if it hits is often deadly in its effect. If it is not parried, the effect is certain; and if it is, the giver can, if he is a good swordsman, hit his adversary a terrible cut over the head. Ivan did not parry, good or bad. Salista had not forgotten that the duelling-sword is shorter than the cavalry practise-sword; but he forgot, or rather didn't know, that his adversary had arms of unusual length. This is, therefore, what happened. Ivan did not attempt to parry the belly-thrust; he raised his arm, and let the sword-point of his opponent pass at a distance of two lines over his body, while he aimed straight at the other's arm, cutting him crossways in the same place where he had before cut lengthways.

These were the two points. Through this cross-cut the difference of strength between the two men was equalized. This last defeat filled Salista with fury. With the roar of a wild beast he threw himself upon his adversary, and with all his strength made two cuts at the head. He cut as a butcher cuts with his axe; it was a miracle that both swords didn't break in two, for, according to rule, Ivan received both thrusts upon the handle of his sword, and before the other could give him a third he gave him quickly a thrust in front with such strength and precision that it came with full force on the head and face of the marquis. It was lucky that the sword was light, otherwise he would have split his skull in two. Salista reeled under the blow, then raised his left arm to protect his head, tottered sideways, and fell down, supporting himself upon the handle of his sword. His seconds ran to him to raise him up and lead him away. Ivan stood with his sword-point lowered, his face apathetic, as if turned to marble. His seconds congratulated him.

"Are the gentlemen content?" he asked.

"I dare swear they are," returned Count Edmund. "Nothing could have turned out better; the affair is at an end."

With these words they conducted Ivan into the next room to dress himself.

When he returned to the hall he found that his adversary had recovered consciousness; the two doctors were with him, one binding up his head, the other his arm.

According to the usual etiquette, Ivan went to him.

"Forgive me, comrade," he said.

Salista gave him his left hand, and said, cordially, "It is not worth talking about; but it was a splendid fight. The other two don't count, because I had said I would give you 'two points;' the third—ah, that was a cut! But I shall be all right in a week."

Ivan asked the doctors if the wounds were dangerous, but Salista answered for them.

"Soldier's luck," he said. "I have given similar cuts a hundred times; now it is my turn, and I don't complain. Only one thing troubles me. Neither arnica nor ice-bandages can do me any good; but you who have caused this suffering can mitigate it. Confess, now, that you have been in the army."

"Without doubt," returned Ivan. "During the War of Freedom I was lieutenant of hussars."

"May the devil fetch you! Why didn't you tell us before? In what regiment did you serve?"

"In the Wilhelm Hussars. Therefore I am the sole survivor and witness of that memorable exploit of yours, when you cut us to pieces."Everybody burst out laughing. No one laughed more than the wounded man. The doctors reminded him that he must not laugh, else the bandage over his face would get disturbed.

"Very good," said Salista. "I shall laugh only on one side of my face. Comrade, God bless you! I shall not think any more of the cut now that I know it was the work of a soldier, and not of a civilian. Come, kiss me on the other cheek, the one you have left me whole and entire. So, my brother. I cannot give you my right hand, for you have given me a cross-cut there that will show a scar for many a day. It was first-rate, that cut, a regular hussar cut, and, therefore, I don't in the least mind it."

And the combatants kissed one another.

The next moment the wounds began to bleed afresh, and Salista fainted from loss of blood. Ivan held his head upon his knees while the doctors bound up the veins; then he helped to carry him to the carriage.

Every one said, "What a capital fellow!"