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Updated: June 28, 2025
They were alone together in the quadrangle under the trellis, through which the sun, already high, was dappling the table at which his lordship sat. "It would be easier to read if it were not for the duelling swords. Those and the nature of Samoval's wound certainly point unanswerably to a duel.
"But there is yet another consideration, sir. I prefer that we engage on neutral ground, so that the survivor shall not be called upon for explanations that might be demanded if we fought here." Even in the gloom Sir Terence caught the flash of Samoval's white teeth as he smiled. "You trouble yourself unnecessarily on my account," was the smoothly ironic answer.
"In a few minutes the moon will be more obliging," he suggested. "If you would prefer to wait " But it occurred to Sir Terence that in the gloom the advantage might lie slightly with himself, since the other's superior sword-play would perhaps be partly neutralised. He cast a last look round at the dark windows. "I find it light enough," he answered. Samoval's reply was instantaneous.
"Leave us, Sylvia, please," she said. "Forgive me, dear. But you see they will not mention these things while you are present." She made a piteous little figure as she stood trembling there, her fingers tearing in agitation at one of Samoval's roses.
He perceived how men must assume now, when the truth of Samoval's death became known as become known it must that he had deliberately fastened upon another his own crime. The fine edifice of vengeance he had been so skilfully erecting had toppled about his ears in obscene ruin, and he was a man not only broken, but dishonoured. Let him proclaim the truth now and none would believe it.
But when in the dead of that night he was awakened to find a British sergeant with a halbert and six redcoats with fixed bayonets surrounding his bed it occurred to him belatedly that what one man can see in a mirror is also visible to another, and that Marshal Massena, Prince of Esslingen, waiting for information beyond Ciudad Rodrigo, would never enjoy the advantages of a report of Count Samoval's masterly constructive and deductive reasoning.
You will remember that O'Moy had undertaken to provide that Count Samoval's visits to Monsanto should be discontinued. About this task he had gone with all the tact of which he had boasted himself master to Colquhoun Grant. You shall judge of the tact for yourself.
The sergeant pondered a moment. "Only that he had been bringing it when he found Count Samoval's body." "That is all I wish to ask, Sir Harry," O'Moy intimated, and looked round at his fellow-members of that court as if to inquire whether they had drawn any inference from the sergeant's statements. "Have you any questions to ask the witness, Captain Tremayne?" the president inquired.
They became a little heated, and the fact was mentioned that Samoval himself was a famous swordsman. Captain Tremayne made the remark that famous swordsmen were required by Count Samoval's country to, save it from invasion.
Nor was he warned when he saw the sudden gleam in Samoval's dark eyes. "Ha!" said the Count. It was a little exclamation of wicked satisfaction. "You are offering me a challenge, then?" "If I may make so bold. And as I've a mind to shoot you dead " "Shoot, did you say?" Samoval interrupted gently.
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