There is, indeed, much that may be said against Rupert of Hentzau, the truth about him well nigh forbidding that charity of judgment which we are taught to observe towards all men. But neither I nor any man who knew him ever found in him a shrinking from danger or a fear of death. It was no feeling such as these, but rather a cool calculation of chances, that now stayed his hand. Even if he were victorious in the duel, and both did not die, yet the noise of the firearms would greatly decrease his chances of escape. Moreover he was a noted swordsman, and conceived that he was Mr. Rassendyll's superior in that exercise. The steel offered him at once a better prospect of victory and more hope of a safe flight. So he did not pull his trigger, but, maintaining his aim the while, said:
"I'm not a street bully, and - don't excel in a rough-and-tumble. Will you fight now like a gentleman? There's a pair of blades in the case yonder."
Mr. Rassendyll, in his turn, was keenly alive to the peril that still hung over the Queen. To kill Rupert would not save her if he himself also were shot and left dead, or so helpless that he could not destroy the letter; and while Rupert's revolver was at his heart he could not tear it up nor reach the fire that burnt on the other side
