Nonchalantly Tracy took it in his hand and glanced at the hilt.

His fingers tightened on it convulsively, and he shot a piercing glance at Jack.

“I am entirely at your service,” he said very smoothly, and laid the sword on the table.

Some of the glare died out of my lord’s eyes, and a little triumphant smile curved the corners of his mouth. Quickly he divested himself of his fine velvet coat, his waistcoat and his scabbard, and pulled off the heavy riding boots, caked with mud. He proceeded to tuck up his ruffles, awaiting his Grace’s convenience.

As one in a dream, Diana saw the table pushed back, the paces measured, and heard the ring of steel against steel.