"'Tis a touch only," said he hoarsely, breathing heavily, "on guard, sir, that we may finish quickly."
And now their positions were reversed. Instead of acting on the defensive, Effingston in turn became the assailant, regaining his lost ground, and forcing Sir Thomas back, step by step.
Maddened at thus losing vantage ground Winter's calmness failed him; he made a sudden thrust forward, and it being parried, lost his footing, the blade of his rapier ringing against the hilt of the other ere he could regain guard.
A cry arose to the lips of Rookwood, for he thought the other would show no mercy; but before he could utter a sound, Effingston, with a quick turn of the wrist, sent the opposing sword ringing to the ground, leaving his enemy weaponless before him.
For an instant Winter recoiled as if in fear of the thrust which he was now powerless to avert. A scornful smile passed over the pale features of the victor.
"'Tis thus I would deal with such as thou," said he haughtily, and, pushing his sword into its scabbard, he took up Sir Thomas' rapier, and breaking it across his knee, tossed the pieces contemptuously aside.
"Come!" said he as his second threw a cloak about him. "Our matters are ended." Then saluting with grave courtesy the four Catholic gentlemen, he left the garden, followed by his companions.