Another plot, headed by three officers and several soldiers of the guard, who were friendly to Trenck, was discovered at the last moment—­in time for the conspirators themselves to escape to Bohemia, but under circumstances which prevented Baron de Trenck from accompanying them.

This also served to increase the hardships of the prisoner’s lot, and he now found himself deprived of the former companionship of his friends and surrounded by strangers, the one familiar face remaining being that of Lieutenant Bach, a Danish officer, a braggart swordsman and ruffler, who had always been hostile to him.

But, despite his isolation, the energy and strength of Trenck’s character were only augmented by his misfortunes, and he never ceased to plot for his deliverance.  Weeks passed without any fruitful event occurring in the life of the prisoner, yet help was to come to him from a source from which he could never have expected it.  But before that fortuitous result was destined to take place—­in fact, as preliminary to its achievement—­he was destined to be an actor in the most remarkable scene that ever has been recorded in the annals of prison life, and in one of the strangest duels of modern times.

One day Trenck had cast himself fully clothed upon his bed, in order to obtain a change of position in his cramped place of confinement.  Lieutenant Bach was on duty as his guard.

The young baron had retained in prison the proud and haughty demeanor which had formerly brought upon him so much censure at court.  Lieutenant Bach’s countenance also bore the imprint of incarnate pride.

The two exchanged from time to time glances of insolence; for the rest, they remained silently smoking, side by side.

Trenck was the first to break the silence, for prisoners grasp every opportunity for conversation, and at any price.

“It appears to me your hand is wounded, lieutenant,” Trenck said.  “Have you found another opportunity to cross swords?”

“Lieutenant Schell, it seemed to me, looked somewhat obliquely at me,” replied the Dane.  “Therefore, I indulged him in a pass or two directed against his right arm.”

“Such a delicate youth, and so mild-mannered!  Are you not ashamed?”

“What could I do?  There was no one else at hand.”

“Nevertheless he seems to have wounded you?”

“Yes, accidentally though, without knowing what he did.”

“The fact, then, of having been expelled from two regiments for your highhanded acts, and finally transferred to the garrison of the fortress of Glatz as punishment, has not cured you of your fire-eating propensities?”

“When a man has the reputation of being the best swordsman in Prussia he values that title somewhat more than your military rank, which any clumsy fool can obtain.”

“You, the best swordsman!” exclaimed Trenck, concluding his remark with an ironical puff of smoke.