A crowd began to collect, and though some cried, ‘Let him pass with her,’ a greater number shouted, ‘It is a sacrilege; God’s curse will follow those who offend one of His devoted. Take her from him, Cossack; we will support you.’
‘You hear?’ I said; ‘better put her down and make off quickly, for the people are against you.’
Rachmanof cursed and blasphemed, bidding me in the devil’s name move out of his way, but I laughed and stood where I was. Suddenly he dropped his burden, and, grabbing at his sword, attacked me furiously.
The girl doubled back like a startled hare and quickly disappeared, she and her companions, including the old nun, shutting all the doors behind them.
I was ready for Rachmanof, for I expected his onslaught, but his attack was so violent and at the same time so skilful that he almost bore me down at the first rush.
But I steadied myself in a moment or two, and for awhile our weapons clashed without advantage to either side, while the crowd about us shouted encouragement now to one and now to the other.
I hacked Rachmanof’s arm, drawing blood, but it was no worse than a surface wound, though the sight of it roused the spectators to excitement and sent the balance of sympathy decidedly to my side.
‘Smite, Cossack, and spit the bully!’ cried some; and a few replied, ‘For shame! let the Russian win, he is our brother—the Cossacks are thieving rascals, one and all.’
Then suddenly something happened that sent me toppling over, and as I fell a man brought a club down upon my head and I tumbled senseless in the road.
I know now that the driver of Rachmanof’s carriage interfered in his master’s interest and backed the horses in such a way that the carriage came rolling into me from behind, knocking my legs from under me. Then a sympathiser with Rachmanof suddenly ran in and smote me upon the head, and so—for the moment—ended all interest in the matter for me.