"His station will excuse him,
but if the affair has gone too far for him to withdraw, tell him to--to
leave Burgundy, to run away, to--"
"Yolanda, what are you saying?" I asked. "Would you not rather see him
dead than a coward?"
"No, no, Sir Karl," she cried, wrought almost to a frenzy by her grief
and fear. "No, no, anything but dead."
"Listen to reason, Yolanda," I answered. "I, who love Max more than I
love the blood of my heart, would kill him with my own hand rather than
have cause to call him coward and speak the truth."
"No, no," she cried desperately, grasping my hand. "Do not let him
fight. Ah, Sir Karl, if you bear me any love, if my grief and unhappy
lot have touched your heart, even on the smallest spot, I pray you, do
this thing for me. Do not let Max fight with this Count Calli. If
Max falls--"
"But Max will not fall," I answered boldly. "He has overthrown better
men than Calli."
"Has he? Ah, tell me, has he? He is little more than a boy. I seem older
than he at times, and it is hard to believe what you say, though I know
he is strong, and that fear has no place in his heart. Tell me, whom has
he overthrown?"
"Another time, Yolanda," I responded soothingly, "but this I say now to
comfort you. Calli is no match for our Max. In the combat that is to
come, Max can kill him if he chooses, barring accidents and treachery.
Over and above his prowess, his cause, you know, is just, and for that
reason God will be with him.
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