"Forward!"
"Forward!"
The three horsemen spurred their horses and charged. When they met they exchanged pistol shots, and then drew their sabres. The fight was brief, but obstinate. One of the strangers, slightly wounded, was carried away by his horse, and disappeared in a cloud of dust. The count, grazed by a ball, felt his anger changed to fury, and redoubled his efforts to master his foe; but he had before him a sturdy opponent, a man of surprising skill and of strength at least equal to his own.
This man whose eyes he saw gleaming like live coals through the holes in his mask, whirled round him with extraordinary rapidity, making his horse perform the boldest curvets, attacking him incessantly with the point or edge of his sabre, while bounding out of reach of the counterblows.
The count exhausted himself in vain against this indefatigable enemy. His movements began to lose their elasticity—his sight grew troubled—the perspiration stood in beads on his forehead. His silent adversary increased the rapidity of his attacks: the issue of the combat was no longer doubtful, when the Frenchman suddenly felt a slipknot fall on his shoulders. Before he could even dream of loosening it he was roughly lifted from his saddle, and hurled to the ground so violently that he almost fainted, and found it impossible to make an effort to rise. The second stranger, after a mad course of a few moments, had at length succeeded in mastering his horse; he returned in all haste to the scene of action, the two men so furiously engaged not noticing it; then, thinking it time to put an end to the duel, he raised his reata and lassoed the count.
So soon as he saw his enemy on the ground, the unknown leaped from his horse and ran up to him. His first care was to free the Frenchman from the slipknot that strangled him, and then tried to restore him to his senses, which was not a lengthy task.
"Ah!" the count said, with a bitter smile, as he rose and crossed his arms on his chest, "that is what you call fair fighting."
"You are alone to blame for what has happened," the other said quietly, "as you would not agree to my propositions."
The Frenchman disdained any discussion. He contented himself with shrugging his shoulders contemptuously.
"Your life belongs to me," his adversary continued.