Lieutenant Dupree, his two friends and a surgeon were already on the ground when Hal, Chester and Lieutenant Anderson arrived. All raised their caps as they came together. The seconds drew apart to discuss the details of the duel, Hal and Lieutenant Dupree in the meantime discarding their coats and rolling up their sleeves.
The details completed, Hal and the French lieutenant were at last face to face.
“On guard!” came the command, given by Lieutenant Anderson.
The swords flashed aloft.
A moment later and they were at it. For a few moments both combatants were wary, each feeling the other out. A few passes and Hal realized that he was no match for the more experienced Frenchman.
“I must be very careful,” he told himself. “Perhaps I can wear him down a bit, and slip over a light thrust. I certainly don’t want to kill him. And I don’t want to be killed myself.”
The French lieutenant was pressing him sorely now. His sword darted in and out with dazzling rapidity, and Hal thanked his stars that he had been fortunate enough to have had some schooling in the use of the foil.
Hal contented himself with remaining on the defensive, and not an attempt did he make to touch the Frenchman, although the latter left several openings, only, Hal knew, to draw him on. The lieutenant at last began to grow impatient, and with impatience came carelessness.
He had realized, as had Hal, with the first few passes, that the lad was not an accomplished swordsman. And the fact now that he could not penetrate the other’s guard angered him.