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Scott, John Reed, 1869-

"The Colonel of the Red Huzzars"

And I think he fully expected to die. He had told me
frankly he purposed killing me, and he would not look for mercy,
himself. The dice had fallen against him. He had lost. And, like a
true gambler, he was ready to pay stakes. To give the fellow his due,
he was brave; with the sort of bravery that meets death--when it
must--with a smiling face and a steady eye.
And, so, for a space, we stood. He, erect and ready. I, with hand on
hip and point advanced.
I heard the gasps of women--a sob or two--and then, the rustle of
skirts, followed instantly by Courtney's soft command.
"Stay, madame--the matter is for His Highness only to decide."
Lotzen laughed lightly.
"Strike, man," he said, "or the petticoats will steal me from you."
I stepped back and shot my sword into its sheath.
"Go," I ordered. "I do not want your life. Only, depart this house
straightway, and take your bravoes with you. They will have no other
opportunity to-night. And, mark you, sir, no further meeting with the
Gypsy--now, nor hereafter."
He bowed low. "Monsieur is pleased to be generous," he sneered.
But I gave him my back and, removing my mask, went over to my friends.
The Marquise met me with a perfect gale of apologies.


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