It was, on the whole, a handsome offer, better than they had expected from de Mezy, and Galisonniere looked with inquiry, first at young Lennox and then at Willet.  But Robert shook his head.

“No,” he said, “Captain de Mezy’s offer does him credit, but I decline it.  I am his inferior in years, but his equal in stature and strength, and I have had some experience with the sword.  Mr. Willet would gladly take my place, but I can support the combat myself.”

Nemours stepped back, and Robert resolved that de Mezy’s offer should not have been made wholly in vain.  It would save the Frenchman some of his blood, but Nemours and de Galisonniere were now choosing the positions in such a manner that neither would have the sun in his eyes but merely his shoulder against the disc.  Robert took off his coat and waistcoat and Willet folded them over his own arm.  De Mezy prepared in like manner.  Nemours gazed at young Lennox’s shoulders and arms, and the muscles swelling beneath his thin shirt, and he was not quite so sure of his principal’s victory as he had been.

Then the two faced each other and Robert looked straight into his opponent’s eyes, reading there the proof that while outwardly de Mezy might now show no signs of dissipation, yet drink and lost hours had struck a blow at the vital organism of the human machine.  He was more confident than ever, and he repeated to himself Willet’s advice to be cautious and slow at first.

“Your positions, gentlemen!” said de Galisonniere, and they stood face to face.  The turf was short and firm, and the place was ideal for their purpose.  Among the trees the eager eyes of Monsieur Berryer and a score of others watched.

“Ready!” said de Galisonniere, and then, after a pause of two or three moments, he added: 

“Proceed!”

Robert had not looked straight into his opponent’s eye so long for nothing.  He knew now that de Mezy was choleric and impatient, that he would attack at once with a vigorous arm and a furious heart, expecting a quick and easy victory.  His reading of the mind through the eye was vindicated as de Mezy immediately forced the combat, cutting and thrusting with a fire and power that would have overwhelmed an ordinary opponent.

Robert smiled.  He knew now beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was de Mezy’s master.  Not in vain did he have those large and powerful wrists, firm and strong as wrought steel, and not in vain had he been taught for years by the best swordsman in America.  He contented himself with parrying the savage cuts and thrusts, and gave ground slowly, retreating in a circle.  De Mezy’s eyes blazed at first with triumph.  He had resented Robert’s refusal of his offer to substitute Willet, and now, the victory which he had regarded as easy seemed to be even easier than he had hoped.  He pushed the combat harder.  His sword flashed in a continuous line of light, and the whirring of steel upon steel was unceasing.  But the face of Nemours, as he watched with an understanding eye, fell a little.  He saw that the breathing of young Lennox was long and regular, and that his eye was still smiling.