happened that one of the two banner bearers who had stood at the right
and left of the flag with naked foils, rigid as statues, slowly tilted
over forward and buried his face in the green sward.

This event naturally put an immediate end to the ceremony. Everybody,
men and women, thronged around the fallen youth and were quickly
pushed back by the medical fraternity men who were present in various
stages of professional development.

The medical wisdom of this many-headed council culminated in the cry:
"A glass of water!"

Immediately a young girl--hot-eyed and loose-haired, exquisite in the
roundedness of half maturity--rushed out of the door and handed a
glass to the gentlemen who had turned the fainting lad on his
back and were loosening scarf and collar.

He lay there, in the traditional garb of the fraternity, like a young
cavalry man of the time of the Great Elector--with his blue,
gold-braided doublet, close-fitting breeches of white leather and
mighty boots whose flapping tops swelled out over his firm thighs. He
couldn't be above eighteen or nineteen, long and broad though he was,
with his cheeks of milk and blood, that showed no sign of down, no
duelling scar. You would have thought him some mother's pet, had there
not been a sharp line of care that ran mournfully from the half-open
lips to the chin.

The cold water did its duty. Sighing, the lad opened his eyes--two
pretty blue boy's eyes, long lashed and yet a little empty of
expression as though life had delayed giving them the harder glow