“In any case I shall have legs left to walk back to the field and find you,” Strangwayes retorted, with his nostrils drawn thin. “Strip off your coat, Hugh. Take your place beyond the bushes there, Ridydale.”
Hugh was glad that Dick unfastened his coat for him; for a sick instant the control he had acquired of himself seemed slipping away. But it was only an instant, and then, grasping his rapier firmly, he had stood up stiffly in the place they bade him stand. In the distance, against the darkening twilight, he could see the bare trees and the towers of Osney Abbey; then his eyes descended to Bellasis’ keen sallow face, and then they dropped to the man’s bony sword-hand, and he saw nothing else.
Some one said, “Now!” and the rapiers crossed, how, he scarcely knew. He heard the quick click of the blades, and with it came a sudden flash of pain in his right thigh; he thrust desperately at Bellasis’ shoulder, but his point went wide.
“That shall quit the blow you struck me,” his adversary spoke, softly, as the blades clicked again.
Hugh shifted his body, stiffly, for his right leg felt strangely numb, yet with his utmost skill he contrived to put by two thrusts; all his attention was riveted to the blades, but some inner consciousness was telling him that Bellasis was only feinting carelessly, and had not yet shown his strength. His very despair drove him forward in a useless thrust, and at that the other’s rapier seemed in his eyes, and he felt something warm on his left cheek.
“And there’s for your father’s blow,” said Bellasis, in a low voice. “Get your breath now for the last bout.”
There was thrust and parry for what seemed endless hours; click of blade, desperate effort that set Hugh, mad with his helplessness, panting to the point of sobbing. Then, of a sudden, as he made an instinctive swerve to the right, there came a rasping sound of tearing cloth, a deathly agony swept through his body. But he saw Bellasis leaning toward him with body all exposed, and, springing forward, with all the strength in him he thrust home the rapier.
The hilt of the rapier slipped from his hand. Bellasis’ shirt and face showed white on the muddy ground at his feet. All the rest was blackness and pain. A second thrill pierced through his side. Some one’s arm was about him, and Dick’s voice cried, “Hugh, Hugh!” with an agony in it he marvelled at. He could feel Strangwayes’ fingers tearing open his shirt, a cloth pressing in upon his side. “Ha’ done!” he gasped out, clutching Dick round the neck.
Right upon that, somewhere very far distant, he heard Ridydale’s voice: “Off with you! The guard’s upon us!”