The Colonel
decided to change his tactics.
"When I have killed you," he said, "I shall search your pockets,
for I know that you lie when you say that you have not those
certificates. Madame was a fool to send you. No man lives who may
be trusted. And what is your game? Save the Osians? Small good it
will do you. Her Highness will wed Prince Frederick--mayhap--and
all you will get is cold thanks. And in such an event, have you
reckoned on Madame the duchess? War! And who will win? Madame;
for she has not only her own army, but mine. Come, come! Speak,
for when you leave this room your voice will be silent. Make use
of the gift, since it is about to leave you."
The reply was a sudden straightening of the arm. The blade
slipped in between the Colonel's forearm and body, and was out
again before the soldier fully comprehended what had happened.
Maurice permitted a cold smile to soften the rigidity of his
face. Beauvais saw the smile, and read it. The thrust had been
rendered harmless intentionally. An inch nearer, and he had been
a dead man. To accomplish such a delicate piece of sword play
required nothing short of mastery.
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