were growing feeble, and my guard weaker; for I knew that
if I gave him time to recover himself he would have recourse to other
tricks, and might out-manoeuvre me in the end. As it was, my black
unchanging mask, which always confronted him, which hid all emotions
and veiled even fatigue, had grown to be full of terror to him--full
of blank, passionless menace. He could not tell how I fared, or what I
thought, or how my strength stood. Superstitious dread was on him, and
threatened, to overpower him. Ignorant who I was or whence I came,
he feared and doubted, grappling with monstrous suspicions, which the
fading light encouraged. His face broke out in blotches, his breath
came and went in gasps, his eyes began to protrude. Once or twice they
quitted mine for a part of a second to steal a despairing glance at the
rows of onlookers that ran to right and left of us. But he read no pity
there.

At last the end came--more suddenly than I had looked for it, but I
think he was unnerved. His hand lost its grip of the hilt, and a parry
which I dealt a little more briskly than usual sent the weapon
flying among the crowd, as much to my astonishment as to that of the
spectators. A volley of oaths and exclamations hailed the event; and for
a moment I stood at gaze, eyeing him watchfully. He shrank back; then he
made for a moment as if he would fling himself upon me dagger in
hand. But seeing my point steady, he recoiled a second time, his face
distorted with rage and fear.

'Go!' I said sternly. 'Begone! Follow your sword! But spare the next man
you conquer.'

He stared at me, fingering his dagger as if he did not understand, or
as if in the bitterness of his shame at being so defeated even life were
unwelcome. I was about to repeat my words when a heavy hand fell on my
shoulder.

'Fool!' a harsh growling voice muttered in my ear. 'Do you want him to
serve you as Achon served Matas? This is the way to deal with him.'

And before I knew who spoke or what to expect a man vaulted over the
table beside me. Seizing the Italian by the neck and waist, he flung him
bodily--without paying the least regard to his dagger--into the crowd.
'There!' the new-comer cried, stretching his arms as if the effort had
relieved him, 'so much for him! And do you breathe yourself. Breathe
yourself, my friend,' he continued with a vain-glorious air of
generosity. 'When you are rested and ready, you and I will have a bout.
Mon dieu! what a thing it is