Martin smiled. “No, master, I don’t like Spaniards, nor will you before you have done with them. But then it is only fair as they don’t like me.”
“I say, Martin,” said Foy, following a new line of thought, “how did you manage that business so quietly, and why didn’t you let me do my share?”
“Because you’d have made a noise, master, and we didn’t want the watch on us; also, being fully armed, they might have bettered you.”
“Good reasons, Martin. How did you do it? I couldn’t see much.”
“It is a trick I learned up there in Friesland. Some of the Northmen sailors taught it me. There is a place in a man’s neck, here at the back, and if he is squeezed there he loses his senses in a second. Thus, master—” and putting out his great hand he gripped Foy’s neck in a fashion that caused him the intensest agony.
“Drop it,” said Foy, kicking at his shins.
“I didn’t squeeze; I was only showing you,” answered Martin, opening his eyes. “Well, when their wits were gone of course it was easy to knock their heads together, so that they mightn’t find them again. You see,” he added, “if I had left them alive—well, they are dead anyway, and getting a hot supper by now, I expect. Which shall it be, master? Dutch stick or Spanish point?”
“Stick first, then point,” answered Foy.
“Good. We need ‘em both nowadays,” and Martin reached down a pair of ash plants fitted into old sword hilts to protect the hands of the players.
They stood up to each other on guard, and then against the light of the lanterns it could be seen how huge a man was Martin. Foy, although well-built and sturdy, and like all his race of a stout habit, looked but a child beside the bulk of this great fellow. As for their stick game, which was in fact sword exercise, it is unnecessary to follow its details, for the end of it was what might almost have been expected. Foy sprang to and fro slashing and cutting, while Martin the solid scarcely moved his weapon. Then suddenly there would be a parry and a reach, and the stick would fall with a thud all down the length of Foy’s back, causing the dust to start from his leathern jerkin.