Presently, however, he grew more serious, for I was very careful. I contented myself with parrying, never offering to return his thrusts, and although he tried hard he could not so much as touch me.
"By Heaven, fight!" he cried at length, but that I would not do. My policy was to tire him out if I could, and then disarm him. This, however, was easier said than done. He fought on with savage pleasure, showing no weakness. His wrists seemed to be made of steel, and his eyes continued to shine with a passionate light.
We had been fighting for some minutes, when I thought it wise to change my tactics. I slowly yielded before him, and he thought my guard grew weaker.
"Ah!" he cried with satisfaction.
Just at that moment I heard a cry among the woods.
"It's the Boscawens!" cried one of the bystanders. "Quick, Killigrew, we shall be in danger soon!"
At this my heart gave a great bound, for hope grew stronger. I might live to see my dear Nancy again, and this thought nerved my arm. I thought of Otho's threat, and I longed to get to Restormel and see if my love was safe.
I still pretended to yield to Benet, and while my guard was still sufficient, I made him believe it was growing weaker.
Another cry came from the woods, sharper and clearer.
"The signal!" cried the bystanders, "the last signal. We must be away."