masters," says he, in the same rough, half-jovial tone there was
no mistaking, "I says to you, maybe we should meet again, I says, and
I've kept my word--such being my natur'--d'ye take me?"

There broke from Sir Harry's lips an inarticulate snarl of fury as he
leaped forward, but I managed to get between them, and Bentley had
wrested the sword from his grasp in an instant.

"Damnation!" cries he, quivering with passion, "give us the swords."

"Sir," says Mr. Tawnish, bowing to the Captain, "you see, I was right,
after all--the gentleman seems positively eager to oblige me."

And, having readjusted his wig, he proceeded in his leisurely fashion to
remove his coat and high-heeled shoes, and to tuck up his long ruffles.

And now, all being ready, the thin, narrow blades rang together. Raikes
was too expert a swordsman to let his passion master him a second time,
and as the two faced each other there was not a pin to choose betwixt
'em: nay, if anything, Sir Harry would almost seem the better man, what
with his superior height and length of limb. There was, too, a certain
gleam in his eye, and a confident smile on his lips that I remembered to
have seen there the day he killed poor Richards.

He opened his attack with a thrust in _tierce_, followed by a _longe_ so
swift and well timed that it came nigh ending the matter there and then,
but it was parried--heaven knows how--and I heard Jack sigh behind me.

Indeed, on this occasion Sir Harry fought with all that impetuosity
which, seconded by his incredible quickness of recovery, had rendered
him famous. A very dangerous opponent he looked, with his great length
of arm; and his face, with its menacing brow and gritted teeth, spoke
his purpose more plainly than any words. Mr. Tawnish, on the other hand,
preserved his usual serene composure, fencing with a certain airy grace
that seemed habitual with him in all things.

Momentarily, the fighting grew but the fiercer, Sir Harry sending in
thrust after thrust, with now and then a sudden, vicious _longe_ which,
it seemed, Mr. Tawnish had much ado to put aside; twice, in as many
moments, Sir Harry's point flashed over his shoulder, missing his throat
by a hair, and once it rent the cambric of his sleeve from the elbow up;
yet the pale serenity of his face remained unchanged, his placid calm
unbroken, save, perhaps, that his eyes were a trifle wider and brighter,
and his chin more than usually prominent. And still they foug