In Honour's Cause: A Tale of the Days of George the First

by George Manville Fenn

For nearly half a minute they stood motionless, eye fixed on eye, each ready to bring to bear his utmost skill, for, from the first the German had fought with a vindictive rage which plainly showed that he was determined to disable, if he did not slay, his adversary; while, enraged as he had been, there was, after some hours of sleep, no such desire on the part of Sir Robert. He desired to wound his enemy, but that was all; and as he at the first engagement realised the German’s intentions, he fought cautiously, confining himself principally to defence, save when he was driven, for his own safety, to retaliate.

The seconds and those who had come as friends, at the expense of a breach of discipline and the consequences which might follow, had grasped this from the first; and though he had great faith in his friend’s skill, Captain Murray had been longing for an opportunity to interfere and end the encounter. None had presented itself, and the German officers had so coldly refused to listen to any attempt at mediation that there was nothing for it but to let matters take their course.

And now, as the adversaries stood motionless with their blades crossed, Sir Robert’s friends felt to a man, as skilled fencers, that the time had arrived for him to take the initiative, press his adversary home, and end the duel by wounding him.

But Sir Robert still stood on his guard, the feeling in his breast being—in spite of the terrible provocation he had received—that he had done wrong in striking his colonel’s guest, and he kept cool and clear-headed, resolved not to attack.

Then, all at once, by an almost imperceptible movement of the wrist, the baron made his sword blade play about his enemy’s, laying himself open to attack, to tempt his adversary to begin.

Twice over he placed himself at so great a disadvantage that it would have been easy for Sir Robert to have delivered dangerous thrusts; but the opportunities were declined, for the English captain’s mind was made up, and Frank heard an impatient word from Murray’s lips, while Andrew uttered a loud sigh.

Then, quick as lightning, the baron resumed his old tactics, sending in thrust after thrust with all the skill he could command. His blade quivered and bent, and seemed to lick that of Sir Robert like a lambent tongue of fire; and Frank felt ready to choke, as he, with Andrew, unable to control their excitement, crept nearer and nearer to the actors in the terrible life drama, till they were close behind Captain Murray and the other English officers, hearing their hard breathing and the short, sharp gasps they uttered as some fierce thrust was made which seemed to have gone home.

But no: giving way very slightly, in spite of the fashion in which he was pressed by the German, Sir Robert turned every thrust aside; and had he taken advantage of his opportunities, he could have again and again laid the baron at his feet, but not in the way he wished, for his desire now was to inflict such a wound as would merely place his enemy hors de combat.

A murmur now arose amongst the Englishmen, for the affair was becoming murderous on one side. But the German officers looked on stolidly, each with his left hand resting upon the hilt of his sword, as if ready to resent any interference with the principals in a deadly way.

There was no hope of combination there to end the encounter, and once more Captain Murray and his friends waited for Sir Robert to terminate the fight, as they now felt that he could at any time.