Face to Face in the ForestFor a moment I could see nothing, for the glare of lanterns andtorches caught me full in the eyes from the other side of the bridge. Butsoon the scene grew clear: and it was a strange scene. The bridge was inits place. At the far end of it stood a group of the duke's servants; two orthree carried the lights which had dazzled me, three or four held pikes inrest. They were huddled together; their weapons were protruded beforethem; their faces were pale and agitated. To put it plainly, they looked inas arrant a fright as I have seen men look, and they gazed apprehensivelyat a man who stood in the middle of the bridge, sword in hand. RupertHentzau was in his trousers and shirt; the white linen was stained withblood, but his easy, buoyant pose told me that he was himself either nottouched at all or merely scratched. There he stood, holding the bridgeagainst them, and daring them to come on; or, rather, bidding them sendBlack Michael to him; and they, having no firearms, cowered before thedesperate man and dared not attack him. They whispered to one another;and in the backmost rank, I saw my friend Johann, leaning against theportal of the door and stanching with a handkerchief the blood whichflowed from a wound in his cheek.

　　By marvellous chance, I was master. The cravens would oppose me nomore than they dared attack Rupert. I had but to raise my revolver, and Isent him to his account with his sins on his head. He did not so much asknow that I was there. I did nothing--why, I hardly know to this day. I hadkilled one man stealthily that night, and another by luck rather than skill-perhapsit was that. Again, villain as the man was, I did not relish beingone of a crowd against him--perhaps it was that. But stronger than eitherof these restrained feelings came a curiosity and a fascination which heldme spellbound, watching for the outcome of the scene.

　　"Michael, you dog! Michael! If you can stand, come on!" cried Rupert;and he advanced a step, the group shrinking back a little before him.

　　"Michael, you bastard! Come on!"The answer to his taunts came in the wild cry of a woman:

　　"He's dead! My God, he's dead!""Dead!" shouted Rupert. "I struck better than I knew!" and he laughedtriumphantly. Then he went on: "Down with your weapons there! I'm yourmaster now! Down with them, I say!"I believe they would have obeyed, but as he spoke came new things.

　　First, there arose a distant sound, as of shouts and knockings from theother side of the chateau. My heart leapt. It must be my men, come by ahappy disobedience to seek me. The noise continued, but none of the restseemed to heed it. Their attention was chained by what now happenedbefore their eyes. The group of servants parted and a woman staggered onto the bridge. Antoinette de Mauban was in a loose white robe, her darkhair streamed over her shoulders, her face was ghastly pale, and her eyesgleamed wildly in the light of the torches. In her shaking hand she held arevolver, and, as she tottered forward, she fired it at Rupert Hentzau. Theball missed him, and struck the woodwork over my head.

　　"Faith, madame," laughed Rupert, "had your eyes been no more deadlythan your shooting, I had not been in this scrape--nor Black Michael inhell--tonight!"She took no notice of his words. With a wonderful effort, she calmedherself till she stood still and rigid. Then very slowly and deliberately shebegan to raise her arm again, taking most careful aim.

　　He would be mad to risk it. He must rush on her, chancing the bullet,or retreat towards me. I covered him with my weapon.

　　He did neither. Before she had got her aim, he bowed in his mostgraceful fashion, cried "I can't kill where I've kissed," and before she or Icould stop him, laid his hand on the parapet of the bridge, and lightly leaptinto the moat.

　　At that very moment I heard a rush of feet, and a voice I knew--Sapt's- cry: "God! it's the duke--dead!" Then I knew that the King needed me nomore, and throwing down my revolver, I sprang out on the bridge. Therewas a cry of wild wonder, "The King!" and then I, like Rupert of Hentzau,sword in hand, vaulted over the parapet, intent on finishing my quarrelwith him where I saw his curly head fifteen yards off in the water of the moat.

　　He swam swiftly and easily. I was weary and half crippled with mywounded arm. I could not gain on him. For a time I made no sound, but aswe rounded the corner of the old keep I cried:

　　"Stop, Rupert, stop!"I saw him look over his shoulder, but he swam on. He was under thebank now, searching, as I guessed, for a spot that he could climb. I knewthere to be none--but there was my rope, which would still be hangingwhere I had left it. He would come to where it was before I could. Perhapshe would miss it-- perhaps he would find it; and if he drew it up after him,he would get a good start of me. I put forth all my remaining strength andpressed on. At last I began to gain on him; for he, occupied with his search,unconsciously slackened his pace.

　　Ah, he had found it! A low shout of triumph came from him. He laidhold of it and began to haul himself up. I was near enough to hear himmutter: "How the devil comes this here?' I was at the rope, and he,hanging in mid air, saw me, but I could not reach him.

　　"Hullo! who's here?" he cried in startled tones.

　　For a moment, I believe, he took me for the King--I dare say I waspale enough to lend colour to the thought; but an instant later he cried:

　　"Why it's the play-actor! How come you here, man?"And so saying he gained the bank.

　　I laid hold of the rope, but I paused. He stood on the bank, sword inhand, and he could cut my head open or spit me through the heart as Icame up. I let go the rope.

　　"Never mind," said I; "but as I am here, I think I'll stay."He smiled down on me.

　　"These women are the deuce--" he began; when suddenly the great bellof the Castle started to ring furiously, and a loud shout reached us from themoat.

　　Rupert smiled again, and waved ............