fury, "if I yielded to the temptation which besets me when I see
you standing there facing me, with your easy and self-satisfied
demeanor,--when I know that you mean dishonor where I meant
honor,--when you have had the effrontery to confess to me that you
only intend to make the Princess Ziska your mistress when I would
have made her my wife,--God! I could shoot you dead at this
moment!"

Gervase looked at him steadily, still smiling slightly; then
gradually the smile died away, leaving his countenance shadowed by
an intense melancholy.

"I can quite enter into your feelings, my dear boy!" he said. "And
do you know, I'm not sure that it would not be a good thing if you
were to shoot me dead! My life is of no particular value to
anybody,--certainly not to myself; and I begin to think I've been
always more or less of a failure. I have won fame, but I have
missed--something--but upon my word, I don't quite know what!"

He sighed heavily, then suddenly held out his hand.

"Denzil, the bitterest foes shake hands before fighting each other
to the death, as we propose to do to-morrow; it is a civil custom
and hurts no one, I should like to part kindly from you to-night!"

Denzil hesitated; then something stronger than himself made him
yield to the impulsive note of strong emotion in his former
friend's voice, and the two men's hands met in a momentary silent
grasp. Then Denzil turned quickly away.