The drunkard gazed on the knight, who stood before him like an angry Mars; and it seemed to him for a moment in his intoxication as if he had gone too far.
"I will tell you at a fitter time," he stammered out: "I have it from a woman."
The contradiction between this and the earlier statement enraged Tausdorf still more.
"Do not stir!" he called out to his people, and led Francis impetuously a few steps farther.
"Now, name the slanderer!"
Instead of reply Francis grasped at him, but with gigantic strength the latter caught his opponent by the breast and flung him to the ground, where he held him fast.
"If you are an honourable nobleman," groaned Francis under him, "let me betake myself to my sword."
Tausdorf hastily let him loose, and went back a few paces. The latter sprang up, frantic with rage, and tore his sword from the scabbard; and, looking after the knight's people furiously, cried out, "Don't let your servants help!"
Tausdorf called to them in Bohemian, "Whichever of you moves a hand, my sword strikes him!"
"Draw!" roared Francis, with foaming mouth.