Lord Sackville at once lunged furiously. The thrust was parried, and the next moment his sword was sent flying through the air. His second did not move to recover it.
"Why do you not bring it here?" Sackville exclaimed, in a tone of the deepest passion.
"Because, my lord," his second said coldly, "as you have been disarmed, the duel necessarily terminates; unless your antagonist is willing that the sword shall be restored to you."
"I shall be obliged if you will give it him, Major Buck," Fergus said quietly. "A little accident of this sort may occur occasionally, even to a noted swordsman, when fighting with a boy."
The general was purple with passion, when he received the sword from his second.
"Mind this time," he said between his teeth as, after a preliminary feint or two, he again lunged.
Again the sword was wrenched from his hand, with a force that elicited an exclamation of pain from him.
"Pray, give the general his sword again, Major Buck," Fergus said.
"You hold your rapier too tightly, General Sackville. You need a little more freedom of play, and less impetuosity. I don't want to hurt you seriously, but your blood is altogether too hot, and next time I will bleed you on the sword arm."
Steadying himself with a great effort, Sackville played cautiously for a time; but after parrying several of his thrusts, without the slightest difficulty, Fergus ran him through the right arm, halfway between the elbow and the shoulder, and the sword dropped from his hand.