“Then you permit it?”
“I permit it.”
“Oh, do not permit, sweetest haiduk,” said Zagloba. “He has disarmed the greatest masters.”
“We shall see!” repeated Basia.
“Let us begin,” said Pan Michael, made somewhat impatient by the boasting of the maiden.
They began. Basia thrust terribly, skipping around like a pony in a field. Volodyovski stood in one place, making, according to his wont, the slightest movements of the sabre, paying but little respect to the attack.
“You brush me off like a troublesome fly!” cried the irritated Basia.
“I am not making a trial of you; I am teaching you,” answered the little knight. “That is good! For a fair head, not bad at all! Steadier with the hand!”
“‘For a fair head?’ You call me a fair head! you do! you do!”
But Pan Michael, though Basia used her most celebrated thrusts, was untouched. Even he began to talk with Zagloba, of purpose to show how little he cared for Basia’s thrusts: “Step away from the window, for you are in the lady’s light; and though a sabre is larger than a needle, she has less experience with the sabre.”