two were well matched, and he
estimated their diverse qualities from sharp experience. 'For short work
the Baron, and my new mate for tough standing to 't!' Farina's summary
in favour of the Goshawk was, 'A stouter heart, harder sinews, and a
good cause. The combat was generally regarded with a professional eye,
and few prayers. Margarita solely there asked aid from above, and knelt
to the Virgin; but her, too, the clash of arms and dire earnest of
mortal fight aroused to eager eyes. She had not dallied with heroes in
her dreams. She was as ready to second Siegfried on the crimson field as
tend him in the silken chamber.

It was well that a woman's heart was there to mark the grace and glory
of manhood in upright foot-to-foot encounter. For the others, it was a
mere calculation of lucky hits. Even Farina, in his anxiety for her,
saw but the brightening and darkening of the prospect of escape in every
attitude and hard-ringing blow. Margarita was possessed with a painful
exaltation. In her eyes the bestial Baron now took a nobler form and
countenance; but the Goshawk assumed the sovereign aspect of old heroes,
who, whether persecuted or favoured of heaven, still maintained their
stand, remembering of what stuff they were, and who made them.

'Never,' say the old writers, with a fervour honourable to their
knowledge of the elements that compose our being, 'never may this bright
privilege of fair fight depart from us, nor advantage of it fail to be
taken! Man against man, or beast, singly keeping his ground, is as fine
rapture to the breast as Beauty in her softest hour affordeth. For if
woman taketh loveliness to her when she languisheth, so surely doth man
in these fierce moods, when steel and iron sparkle opposed, and their
breath is fire, and their lips white with the lock of resolution; all
their faculties knotted to a point, and their energies alive as the
daylight to prove themselves superior, according to the laws and under
the blessing of chivalry.'

'For all,' they go on to improve the comparison, 'may admire and delight
in fair blossoming dales under the blue dome of peace; but 'tis the
rare lofty heart alone comprehendeth, and is heightened by, terrific
splendours of tempest, when cloud meets cloud in skies black as the
sepulchre, and Glory sits like a flame on the helm of Ruin'

For a while the combatants aired their dexterity, contenting themselves
with cunning cuts and flicks of the sword-edge, in which