Part 10 (1/2)
A darker cloud obscured the moon, and by common consent we rested.
”Three minutes for good-byes,” said Volney, suggestively.
”Oh, my friends need not order the hea.r.s.e yet--at least for me. Of course, if it would be any convenience----”
He laughed. ”Faith, you improve on acquaintance, Mr. Montagu, like good wine or--to stick to the same colour--the taste of the lady's lips.”
I looked blackly at him. ”Do you pretend----?”
”Oh, I pretend nothing. Kiss and never tell, egad! Too bad they're not for you too, Montagu.”
”I see that Sir Robert Volney has added another accomplishment to his vices.”
”And that is----?”
”He can couple a woman's name with the hint of a slanderous lie.”
Sir Robert turned to Creagh and waved a hand at me, shaking his head sorrowfully. ”The country boor in evidence again. Curious how it will crop out. Ah, Mr. Montagu! The moon s.h.i.+nes bright again. Shall we have the pleasure of renewing our little debate?”
I nodded curtly. He stopped a moment to say:
”You have a strong wrist and a prodigious good fence, Mr. Montagu, but if you will pardon a word of criticism I think your guard too high.”
”Y'are not here to instruct me, Sir Robert, but----”
”To kill you. Quite so!” he interrupted jauntily. ”Still, a friendly word of caution--and the guard _is_ overhigh! 'Tis the same fault my third had.
I ran under it, and----” He shrugged his shoulders.
”Was that the boy you killed for defending his sister?” I asked insolently.
Apparently my hit did not pierce the skin. ”No. I've forgot the nomination of the gentleman. What matter? He has long been food for worms. Pardon me, I see blood trickling down your sword arm. Allow me to offer my kerchief.”
”Thanks! 'Twill do as it is. Art ready?”
”Lard, yes! And guard lower, an you love me. The high guard is the one fault-- Well parried, Montagu!--I find in Angelo's pupils. Correcting that, you would have made a rare swordsman in time.”
His use of the subjunctive did not escape me. ”I'm not dead yet,” I panted.
I parried a feint une-deux, in carte, with the parade in semicircle, and he came over my blade, thrusting low in carte. His laugh rang out clear as a boy's, and the great eyes of the man blazed with the joy of fight.
”Gad, you're quick to take my meaning! Ah! You nearly began the long journey that time, my friend.”
He had broken ground apparently in disorder, and by the feel of his sword I made sure he had in mind to parry; but the man was as full of tricks as the French King Louis and with incredible swiftness he sent a straight thrust in high tierce--a thrust which sharply stung my ribs only, since I had flung myself aside in time to save my vitals.
After that came the end. He caught me full and fair in the side of the neck. A moist stifling filled my throat and the turf whirled up to meet the sky. I knew nothing but a mad surge of rage that he had cut me to pieces and I had never touched him once. As I went down I flung myself forward at him wildly. It is to be supposed that he was off guard for the moment, supposing me a man already dead. My blade slipped along his, lurched farther forward, at last struck something soft and ripped down. A hundred crimson points zigzagged before my eyes, and I dropped down into unconsciousness in a heap.
V
THE HUE AND CRY