"To none but a Castriot will a Castriot surrender!" cried the infuriate man, making a lunge at the challenger. The thrust was avoided.
"You shall surrender to another," cried the Albanian officer. "Stand back, men, he shall yield to me alone."
"Who are you?" growled the challenged man.
"One who has the right to avenge the wrong done to Mara de Streeses," was the reply.
Quick as a panther Amesa leaped upon him. But the tremendous blow he aimed, might as well have been delivered against a rock, as against the sword of Constantine. The effort threw him off his balance; and before he could recover himself, the tremendous slash of his opponent, though warded, brought him to the ground. In an instant Constantine's knee was upon his breast, and his sword at his throat.
"Do you surrender?"
"Yes!" groaned the helpless man.
He was instantly disarmed, and bound by the girth to a horse.