"There you are," said Maurice, a heat-flash passing over him.Had he swerved a hair's breadth from the line, time would have tacked finis to the tale."Now, I am perfectly willing to talk," putting his point to the Colonel's breast."It would inconvenience me to kill you, but do not count too much on that.""Damn you!" cried the Colonel, giving way, his face yellow with rage, chagrin and fear."Kill me, for I swear to God that one or the other of us must die! Damn you and your meddling nose!""Damn away, chevalier d'industrie; damn away.But live, live, live! That will be the keenest punishment.Live! O, my brave killer of boys, you thought to play with me as a cat with a mouse, eh? Eh, Captain Urquijo-Beauvais-and-What-is-your-name?"He pressed the point here, there, everywhere."You were too confident.Pardon me if I appear to brag, but I have taken lessons of the best fencing masters in Europe, and three times, while you devoted your talents to monologues, I could have pinned you like one of those butterflies on the wall there.Have you ever heard of the sword of Damocles? Well, well; it hangs over many a head to-day.I will be yours.I give you forty-eight hours to arrange your personal affairs.If after that time you are still in this part of the country, I shall inform the proper authorities in Vienna.The republic has representation there.Of a noble Austrian house, on the eve of recall? I think not."Beauvais made a desperate attempt to clutch the blade in his hands.
"No, no!" laughed Maurice, making rapid prods which caused Beauvais to wince."Now, back; farther, farther.I do not like the idea of having my back to the door."Beauvais suddenly wheeled and dashed for the mantel.But as he endeavored to lay hand on the revolver Maurice brought down the blade on the Colonel's knuckles, leaving a livid welt.
Maurice took possession of the weapon, while a grimace of agony shot over the Colonel's face.Seeing that the chambers were loaded, Maurice threw down the sword.
"Well, well!" he said, cocking the weapon."And I saw it when Ientered the room.It would have saved a good deal of trouble."Beauvais grew white."O," Maurice continued, "I am not going to shoot you.I wish merely to call your valet." He aimed at the grate and pressed the trigger, and the report, vibrating within the four walls, was deafening.
A moment passed, and the valet, with bulging eyes and blanched face, peered in.Seeing how matters stood, he made as though to retreat.
Maurice leveled the smoking revolver."Come in, Francois; your master will have need of you."Francois complied, vertigo in his limbs."My God!" he cried, wringing his hands.
"Your master tried to murder me," said Maurice.Francois had heard voices like this before, and it conveyed to him that a fine quality of anger lay close to the surface."Take down yonder window curtain cord." Francois did so."Now bind your master's hands with it.""Francois," cried the Colonel, "if you so much as lay a finger on me, I'll kill you.""Francois, I will kill you if you don't," said Maurice.
"My God!" wailed the valet at loss which to obey when to obey either meant death.His teeth chattered.
"You may have all the time you want, Francois, to wring your hands when I am gone.Come; to work.Colonel, submit.I'm in a hurry and have no time to spare.While I do not desire to kill you, self-preservation will force me to put a bullet into your hide, which will make you an inmate of the city hospital.Bind his hands behind his back, and no more nonsense.""Monsieur," appealingly to Beauvais, "my God, I am forced.He will kill me!""So will I," grimly; "by God, I will!" Beauvais had a plan.If he could keep Maurice long enough, help might arrive.And he had an excellent story to tell.Still Francois doddered.With his eye on the Colonel and the revolver sighted, Maurice picked up the sword.He gave Francois a vigorous prod.Francois needed no further inducement.He started forward with alacrity.In the wink of an eye he threw the cord around Beauvais's arms and pinned them to his sides.Beauvais swore, but the valet was strong in his fright.He struggled and wound and knotted and tied, murmuring his pitiful "Mon Dieu!" the while, till the Colonel was the central figure of a Gordian knot.
