The lady ran up as nearly between us as she dared, and besought:
"Oh, Messires, Messires," she plucked me by the sleeve, "do not fight; there is no need of it."
"Get out of the way you impudent hussy," he commanded, "I'll kill your meddling lover, like the varlet hound he is."
I went at him in earnest. His further insult to her made every muscle a cord of steel. I soon found this no mere sport, for the fellow was a thorough master of his weapon. I was a trifle the taller and had a longer reach; this, with my heavier blade, gave me well the vantage. Besides I had touched no wine, and my nerves were steady.
However, I had the light full in my face, and he was not slow to see the annoyance it caused me. I knew I could not maintain such a fight for long, so I pressed him sternly and the bright sparks flew. Backwards, step by step he retreated, until he had almost reached the door out of which he came. I durst not withdraw my eyes from his, yet I had seen the lady run swiftly up the inner stairs, whether for help or for other assassins I could not guess.
Still back, ever pressing him desperately back, the fight went, and he stood again inside the door, at the very foot of the stair. Now every advantage was mine, for he was well within the glow of the lamp, every movement distinctly visible, while I yet stood in darkness.
"For the sake of mercy, my lord, come quick." It was the girl's voice at the head of the stairs; "there they are. They will desist if you command it." And I heard the heavy tread of two men coming down the stairs, a lighter step behind them. My foot touched something which lay in the dense shadow of the doorstep. It felt soft, a package of some kind. Then I remember seeing something fall from the cloak of my adversary forgotten in the heat of the fray. I placed my foot upon it.
"What quarrel is this, gentlemen? Put by your swords?"
The voice was that of a man accustomed to obedience. My antagonist stood entirely upon the defensive; I stepped back a pace and we rested at ease. He leaned heavily against the balustrade; his breath came hard; I could see he was nearly spent, so furious had been our short contest. His face showed, besides, the flush of too much wine, or perchance I had not been so fortunate.
"What mean you, gentlemen? Your quarrel?"