"Have at the coxcomb, Dan; he's only good for tilting before ladies, and only then when they bribe their lovers to spare his dainty youth," called out the man-at-arms, as he prepared to strike Ralph again with his uplifted sword. But Ralph did not yet lose hope. The love of life was strong in him. He closed with the half-armed varlet, and dealt him a blow with his poignard, which he had now drawn. The man uttered a fearful imprecation, and cut at Ralph with his axe; but the harness of the young esquire was good, and the weapon only glanced aside. Seeing how little use was his axe, the man dropped it, and drew his dagger also, closing with Ralph, and trying to drive the point through the bars of his visor. But the boy had been well taught, and he parried the thrust on his steel gauntlet, dealing his foe a deep stab with his right hand.
"Strike him, youngster, strike him!" shouted the man, in fierce rage. "What art standing there for seeing him murdering me?"
"How can I strike him without doing thee a mischief, old stockfish? Get thyself away, and I'll soon do for him."
But Ralph fully understood his advantage, and wrestled with the man until they both fell to the ground over the prostrate body of Lord Woodville.
The man-at-arms now got off his horse and came to the assistance of the varlet who had fallen upon Ralph, but was severely wounded.
"Drive thy sword through his visor," gasped the man, whose arms were held by Ralph, who was struggling to regain his feet.
The keen point played around the helmet of the esquire, who by twisting and turning his head prevented the thrust from taking effect, but, held as he was by the weight of the varlet above him, he could not hope to avoid the blow much longer.
"Wrench off his helm, man!" cried the impatient man-at-arms.
"How can I? Don't you see he's got hold of my arms?" said the other, in a gruff voice, which was growing fainter. "Stab him! why don't ye? Stab him!"
