Without further comment, Giovanni took off his coat and waistcoat, and Del Ferice, who looked paler and more unhealthy than usual, followed his example.  The seconds crossed sides to examine the principals’ shirts, and to assure themselves that they wore no flannel underneath the unstarched linen.  This formality being accomplished, the foils were carefully compared, and Giovanni was offered the first choice.  He took the one nearest his hand, and the other was carried to Del Ferice.  They were simple fencing foils, the buttons being removed and the points sharpened—­there was nothing to choose between them.  The seconds then each took a sword, and stationed the combatants some seven or eight paces apart, while they themselves stood a little aside, each upon the right hand of his principal, and the witnesses placed themselves at opposite corners of the ground, the surgeons remaining at the ends behind the antagonists.  There was a moment’s pause.  When all was ready, old Saracinesca came close to Giovanni, while Del Ferice’s second approached his principal in like manner.

“Giovanni,” said the old Prince, gravely, “as your second I am bound to recommend you to make any advance in your power towards a friendly understanding.  Can you do so?”

“No, father, I cannot,” answered Giovanni, with a slight smile.  His face was perfectly calm, and of a natural colour.  Old Saracinesca crossed the ground, and met Casalverde, the opposite second, half-way.  Each formally expressed to the other his great regret that no arrangement would be possible, and then retired again to the right hand of his principal.

“Gentlemen,” said the Prince, in a loud voice, “are you ready?” As both men bowed their assent, he added immediately, in a sharp tone of command, “In guard!”

Giovanni and Del Ferice each made a step forward, saluted each other with their foils, repeated the salute to the seconds and witnesses, and then came face to face and fell into position.  Each made one thrust in tierce at the other, in the usual fashion of compliment, each parrying in the same way.

“Halt!” cried Saracinesca and Casalverde, in the same breath.

“In guard!” shouted the Prince again, and the duel commenced.

In a moment the difference between the two men was apparent.  Del Ferice fenced in the Neapolitan style—­his arm straight before him, never bending from the elbow, making all his play with his wrist, his back straight, and his knees so much bent that he seemed not more than half his height.  He made his movements short and quick, and relatively few, in evident fear of tiring himself at the start.  To a casual observer his fence was less graceful than his antagonist’s, his lunges less daring, his parries less brilliant.  But as the old Prince watched him he saw that the point of his foil advanced and retreated in a perfectly straight line, and in parrying described the smallest circle possible, while his cold watery blue eye was fixed steadily upon his antagonist; old Saracinesca ground his teeth, for he saw that the man was a most accomplished swordsman.