"Ah, ah!" he murmured, "a quick fellow on his feet. Attention!"
He exchanged a quick glance with his seconds, to tell them not to be uneasy.
But at the same moment, and without any interval, the general, while entangling the sword by a skilful pressure advanced in a crouching attitude, and lunged with so rapid a dégagement that it needed all Benedict's close handling to parry by a counter quarte, which, quick though it was, could not save his shoulder from a graze. The shirt tore upon the sword's point and became slightly tinged with blood.
The return thrust came so swiftly that the Prussian by luck or by instinct had not time to resort to a circular parry and mechanically employed the parade de quarte and was now on the defensive. The thrust was parried, but it had been given with such energy that General Sturm staggered on his legs and could not deliver his counter thrust.
"He is a pretty fencer, after all," thought Benedict. "He gives one something to do."
Sturm stepped back and lowered his point.
"You are wounded," said he.
"Come, come," returned the young man, "no nonsense! Here's a fuss about a scratch. You know very well, general, that I have got to kill you. One must keep one's word, even to a dead man." He put himself in position again.
"You? Kill me! Upstart!" exclaimed the general.
"Yes, I, greenhorn as you think me," replied Benedict. "Your blood for his, although all yours is not equal to one drop of his."