“Send me, then,” said the lad contemptuously, “or be prepared to go yourself.”
“Bah! No more words. Come on,” cried the captain; and he prepared to attack once more.
“My turn now,” whispered the boy to himself, “and it is time;” for in his excitement he fancied that he could hear steps approaching. But there was not a sound save the gritting of the rapiers and the captain’s hoarse panting breath as he uttered a loud expiration at every thrust.
For in his turn, in spite of his determination to make this second encounter an attack, and force his young adversary to remain entirely on his guard, the retort had begun, and before a minute had elapsed he uttered a sharp ejaculation as he felt the sharp pain caused by the lad’s keen point ripping open his muscular right arm. Stung now with rage, hatred, and the determination to have revenge, he literally rushed at the lad, to force him down, with the natural result that he threw himself open to the point of his more skilful enemy, who chose his moment, and made one quick thrust which darted like lightning through the captain’s bull-like neck, making him utter a low, deep growl as his sword flew from his hand, and he staggered backwards into the arms of a couple of the grooms, who lowered him to the ground.
“Hah!” ejaculated Denis, whose heart was beating fast, and stepping forward he stooped over his fallen adversary, raised a portion of his cloak and drew his blade through it twice over. “Stop!” he cried quickly. “What are you going to do?” His loud question was addressed to the chief groom. “No,” cried the boy sternly; “lift him in yonder,” and he pointed with his blade towards the saddle-room. “Lay him there; tear strips off his cloak, and bind up his arm and neck. The greatest help you can give him now is to stop the bleeding.”
There was a tone of command in the boy’s uttered words which had the natural effect, and the men busied themselves at once with their task, taking with them their lanterns and doing at once as they had been told, while they were so intent upon their task that they did not notice that Denis had followed them, to draw to the door and slip the two bolts with which it was furnished into their sockets.
Then sheathing his sword, he turned quickly to the stable, where the four chargers stood untethered, and caught his own by the bridle, to begin leading it to the door.
He trusted to the nature of the horses for the result, old stable companions as they were, and it was as he expected, for the intelligent animals followed their leader quietly enough, to stand together in the entry waiting, like their master, for what might come.