Had he stood before Calli thirty seconds longer that treacherous heart would have ceased to beat.
While we were standing in the false lists, speaking with the duke, an Italian approached Max, bowed low, and said:-- "The noble Count Calli approaches to thank you for your mercy and to extol your bravery." Max turned his head toward the centre of the course, and saw Calli surrounded by a crowd of jabbering friends who were leading him toward us.

A black cloud--a very mist from hell--came over Max's face.

He stooped and took his battle-axe from the ground.

I placed my hand on the boy's arm and warningly spoke his name:-- "Max!" After a pause I continued, "Leave murder to the Italians." Max uttered a snort of disdain, but, as usual, he took my advice.

He turned to Campo-Basso, still grasping his battle-axe:-- "Keep that fellow away from me," he said, pointing toward Calli.