of this arena, when four men ascended with swords and pistols. One
of them removed the shackles, letting my hands free. I thanked him
as he tossed them aside. I was thinking of D'ri, and, shading my
eyes, looked off in the gloom to see if I could discover him. I
called his name, but heard no answer. His Lordship came over to
me, bringing a new sword. He held the glittering blade before me,
its hilt in his right hand, its point resting on the fingers of his
left. "It's good," said he, quietly; "try it."

It was a beautiful weapon, its guard and pommel and quillons
sparkling with wrought-silver, its grip of yellow leather laced
with blue silk. The glow and the feel of it filled me with a joy I
had not known since my father gave me the sword of my childhood.
It drove the despair out of me, and I was a new man. I tried the
blade, its point upon my toe. It was good metal, and the grip
fitted me.

"Well, how do you find it?" said he, impatiently.

"I am satisfied," was my reply.

He helped me take off my blouse and waistcoat, and then I rolled my
sleeves to the elbow. The hum of voices had grown louder. I could
hear men offering to bet and others bantering for odds.

"We'll know soon," said a voice near me, "whether he could have
killed Ronley in a fair fight."

I turned to look at those few in the arena. There were half a
dozen of them now, surrounding my adversary, a man taller than the