ted vengeance to nerve his arm, his sword
play was most masterly.

Yet twice in his stamping rushes I found my opening; once the Ferara's
point passed his blade, and but for the ringed guard of the German
long-sword that stopped it when his parry failed, the steel would have
passed through him. After this he grew warier, having in mind, as I
supposed, that other time when I had shown him that my wrist and arm
could outweary his. Yet his savage onset never flagged for an instant;
and when the light fell upon his hideous face, I could see the fierce
eyes glinting like a basilisk's, with no sign in them that my time was
come to press him home.

None the less, I did press him, inch by inch, driving him at each new
clash of the steel a little deeper into the gloom that crowded close
upon the narrow circle of candle-light. He saw my object--to push him to
unfamiliar ground where he might trip and stumble in the darkness--and
he strove furiously to defeat it. Yet he had no choice, and presently I
had him among the empty wine-butts, foining and parrying for his life
and pouring out such blasphemies as would make your blood run cold.

Here the end came quickly. Being entangled among the broached butts he
had no room to play skilfully. So presently it chanced that he caught
his point in the chine of a cask and his blade snapped short at the
hilt. With a yelling oath, hissing hot from the devil's thumb-book, he
snatched up the broken blade to fling and stick it javelin-wise in my
shoulder; and then I saw the dull gleam of the candle-light on the
barrel of a pistol.

Had he aimed the pistol at me, I trust I should still have given him his
gentleman's chance. But when I saw him level the weapon at my dear lady
... they came in one and the same heart-beat; the sword-thrust that
found his life and took it; the crash of the pistol-shot echoing like a
clap of thunder in the close vault, and pitchy darkness to draw its
curtain over all.

I know not how I reached her, pulling the broken sword-blade from my
shoulder as I ran; nor can I tell you how an upgushing spring of
thankfulness choked me when I found her unharmed by the bullet which had
snuffed the candle out.

She was in a most piteous state, now it was all over; and though I
charged it all where I supposed it should belong--to the account of a
natural womanly passion to cling to something in her moment of
weakness--yet the blood ran quick in my veins when she suffered me to