There was a word of formality exchanged, to the effect that both combatants were satisfied, and then Giovanni and his party moved off, Spicca carrying his green bag of foils under his arm, and puffing clouds of smoke into the damp morning air.

They had been nearly an hour on the ground, and were chilled with cold, and exhausted for want of sleep.

They entered their carriage and drove rapidly homewards.
"Come in and breakfast with us," said the old Prince to Spicca, as they reached the Palazzo Saracinesca.
"Thank you, no," answered the melancholy man.

"I have much to do, as I shall go to Paris to-morrow morning by the ten o'clock train.

Can I do anything for you there?
I shall be absent some months." "I thought you were going to fight to-morrow," objected the Prince.
"Exactly.