The Spanish Fork press. [volume] (Spanish Fork, Utah) 1902-current, 1906-10-18
JOAN IL II SWORD HAND
S.RCROCKETT. AuaMor az Tie uaacsoo
Prince Wasp.
CHAPTER VIII.


nso" he said, as he faced the
.,oretary. now somewhat compositely
| ',rled Johann, Count Won Leon. so
sung springald, you think to court a
/ .oolish princess. You play upon her
Ian your pretty words and graceful
compliments. That is an agreeable
,slaxatiou. Only-you have in addi-
Alan TO reckon with me, Ivan, heredi-
nry Prince of Muscovy."
4 And with sweep OF his hand
,cross his body he drew his sword
/ from its sheath.
The sword of the young secretary
came into hand with equal swiftness.
"Follow me, Count Won Loen," said
! the prince.
And with his 1.-THE and springy walk
the Prince of Muscovy passed again
into the alleys of the rose garden till
he reached the first open space. where
he turned upon the secretary.
1--WE are arrived" he said, "our bust
ness is so pressing, and will be so
oulckly finished, that there is no need
j for the formality of seconds. Though
| honor you by crossing my sword
with yours, 1t is mere formality.
have such skill of the weapon, as l
dare say report has told you, that you
may consider yourself dead already.
Guard!"
But Johann Pyrmont had been
trained in school which permitted
no such windy preludes, and with the
tencer's smile on his face he kept
bis silence. His sword would an
swer all such boastings, and that in
good time.
And SO II fell out.
! From the very first crossing of the
swords Prince Wasp found himself
opposed by quicker nye, firmer
wrist, method and c.ence infinitely
superior to his own. His most dash.
Ing attack was repealed with apparent
ease, yet with subtlety which inter
posed nothing but the most delicate
Of guards and parties between Prince
/ Ivan and victory. This gradually in
furiated the prince, till suddenly los.
ing his temper he stamped his foot in
anger and rushed upon his foe with
/ the true Muscovite fire.
But 10! the blade was turned aside
the long-delayed answering thrust
/ glittered out, and the secretary
sword stood couple Of hand-breadths
in the boaster's shoulder.
The prince staggered, cried out
some unintelligible words in the Mus
covite language, and pitched forward
slowly on his face among the tram
| pied leaves and blown rose-petals OF
the palace garden.
The secretary grew paler than his
wont, and ran to lift his fallen enemy
But, all unseen, other eyes had watch
ed the combat and from the door by
which they had entered, and from
behind the trees of the surrounding
| glade, there came the noise of pound
ling footsteps and fierce cries Of
Seize him! Kill him! Tear him tc
pieces! He has slain the good prince
the friend of the people! The Prince
Ivan is dead!"
The secretary eyed this unkempt
horde with naughty scorn, and mis-
fearless attitude, as he striped his
Stained sword through his handker
chief and threw the linen away, hat
something to do with the fact that the
|rabble halted at the distance Of hall
a dozen yards and for many minutes
|contented themselves with hurting
|oaths and imprecations at him.
At last they did come on, not al
together, but in irregular, undiscip
lined rushes. Johann's sword streake(
|out this way and that. There was al
answering cry of pain, Turmoil
among the assailants as wounded
man whirled his way backward out o
the press. But this could not las
for long. The odds were too great.
Then suddenly came voice: Back
on your lives, dogs and traitors! Ger