"Your life or mine!" he cried. "Come on; a man can die but once!"
He lunged, and again they retreated. He laughed. "It was a
good fight!" He reeled off toward the palace steps. They did not
hinder him, but they followed, expecting each moment to see him
fall. But, he fell not. One by one he mounted the steps,
steadying himself with the saber. He gained the landing, once
more steadied himself, and vanished into the palace.
"He is out of his head!" cried Scharfenstein, rushing up the
steps. "God knows what has happened!"
He was in time to see Maurice lurch into the arms of Captain von
Mitter, who had barred the way to the private apartments.
"Carewe! . . . What has happened? God's name, you are soaked in
blood!" Von Mitter held Maurice at arm's length. "A battle?"
"Aye, a battle; one man is dead and another soon will be!" A
transient lucidity beamed in Maurice's eyes. "We were betrayed
by the native troops; they ran to meet Madame. . . . Marshal
Kampf, Prince Frederick, and the cuirassiers are prisoners. . . .
I escaped. Beauvais, gave chase. . . . Wanted to kill me. . . .
He gave me this. I ran him through the throat.
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