Feeling utterly powerless, Mistral could only stand and watch them – watch them feint, parry and riposte – think for a moment that Sir Robert had the Prince at his mercy, only to realise that the Prince had extricated himself with a display of brilliant swordsmanship. Now Sir Robert was on the defensive. However much Mistral wanted to stop the fight it was too late. There was nothing she could do. From sheer weakness and astonished she could only watch with horrified yet fascinated eyes.

An expert would have told her that the two combatants were well matched. Sir Robert was slightly the more experienced of the two, but he was also heavier on his feet, while the Prince had an agility and quickness which not only saved him when he was in a tight corner but was also a definite danger to his opponent.

After some minutes the ferocity of the fight began to tell on both men. Their breath came quickly and, though neither seemed in the least tired, an expression of strain could be observed in the tightness of their mouths and the wariness in their eyes. Still they fought on. There came a moment when it seemed as if the Prince would be the winner. He had driven Sir Robert up against a bookcase and the flickering blade like the evil tongue of a serpent was within an inch of his throat.

At that moment Mistral knew who she wanted to win.

She felt a sudden terror possess her that Sir Robert might be killed. The thought was almost a physical agony in the intensity of her fear. She wanted to rush to Sir Robert’s side, to receive the blow in her own breast rather than that he should be wounded. But she could not move, her very feet seemed rooted to the ground. She could not utter a sound although her lips moved.

Sir Robert was bending backwards and his face was livid. There was no hope, Mistral thought wildly, and she would see him killed before her very eyes. She knew then that if he were dead she would want to die beside him.

She loved him! She had loved him from that very first moment when they met before the dawn. She loved him with an overwhelming emotion which seemed so utterly a part of her that she had not recognised it until this moment. She could not think how she had ever lived or ever imagined she could find happiness without him.

She loved him and she could do nothing to save him. She could only stand there, tense and terrified, every nerve in her body strained to breaking point.