scaped his adversary; and something in those sounds, nerved
Stanley's arms with resistless power: he was sure he could not be
mistaken, and he fought, not with the unguarded desire of one eager
to obtain satisfaction for personal injury--but he was calm, cool,
collected, as threefold an avenger. For once, the demon-like caution
of the supposed Italian deserted him: discovery was inevitable, and
his sole aim was to compass the death of the hated foreigner with his
own. He tried gradually to retreat to the very edge of the precipice,
and Stanley's calm and cautious avoidance of the design lashed him
into yet fiercer desperation. Thick and fast, fell those tremendous
blows. The Italian had the advantage in height and size, Stanley in
steady coolness and prudent guard; the Italian sought only to slay his
adversary, caring not to defend himself; Arthur evidently endeavored
merely to unhelm the traitor, and bring him but slightly wounded to
the ground. For several minutes there was no cessation in that fearful
clash of steel; the strokes were so rapid, so continued, a hundred
combatants might have seemed engaged. A moment they drew back, as if
to breathe; the Italian, with a despairing effort, raised his weapon
and sprung forwards; Arthur lightly leaped aside, and the murderous
stroke clove but the yielding earth. Another second, and ere the
Italian had regained his equilibrium, Arthur's sword had descended
with so true and sure a stroke that the clasp of the helmet gave way,
the dark blood bubbled up from the cloven brow, he reeled and fell;
and a long, loud shout from the officers and soldiers, who, at the
sound of arms, had flocked round, proclaimed some stronger feeling
than simply admiration of Stanley's well-known prowess.

"Seize him! seize him! or by Heaven he will escape us yet!" were among
the few words intelligible. "The daring villain, to come amongst us!
Did he think for ever to elude Heaven's vengeance? Bind, fetter, hold
him; or his assistant fiends will release him still!"

Fiercely the fallen man had striven to extricate himself; but
Stanley's knee moved not from his breast, nor his sword from his
throat, until a strong guard had raised and surrounded him: "but the
horrible passions imprinted on those lived features were such, that
his very captors turned away shuddering.

"Hadst thou not had enough of blood and crime, thou human monster,
that thou wouldst stain thy already blackened soul with, another
mid