'What! again?' said Mr. Oxenham fiercely. 'Why, what a meddler are you, that have not heart to love a fair wench, and will yet prevent a man that has!'
She started away from him when she saw me. Had she clung to him for protection, I think I could hardly have kept as calm as I did.
'Love or no love, Mr. Oxenham,' said I, 'it is no matter of that here. What you intend I know not, but it is against the general's plain orders that any prisoner should leave the Pasha before she sails, and this lady I must see aboard again.''
'What a pestilent meddler it is!' muttered Mr. Oxenham, drawing his sword. 'If you want her for your own, by heaven, you shall fight for her.'
'Pray you be content, Mr. Oxenham,' I cried, giving ground, 'or I must summon the guard. What madness is this?'
He pressed on so hard, crying fiercely to me to draw, that I saw an encounter could not be avoided; yet I would not whistle for the watch, half for her sake once more, seeing how she was clad and what men would say of her, half for shame of seeking help after Mr. Oxenham's blade was drawn on me.
Hoping the better to worst him without doing great hurt, I took my cloak upon my left arm instead of my dagger and drew. He was coming at me with his buckler advanced, and his sword uplifted for a cross-blow like to the mandritto sgualembrato, but very unscholarly. So I fell from my draw to the good ward di testa, as Marozzo teaches, to receive his blow on my rapier, and hay! straightway in punta reversa threatened my imbroccata at his throat over his hand. He was cleverly ready for it with his buckler, so I lowered my ward suddenly lunga e larga, and throwing a resolute staccato, under his defence, compelled him to spring backwards out of distance.
He came on again immediately with a good down-right fendant, as though he would have broken my ward by main force. I avoided it by a quick passado to the right, pushing at the same time a stoccata which he took again on his buckler. But it was only a feint of mine to make him advance his defence, and so stop him recovering quickly. It served its purpose well. For I was able to cast my cloak over his blade before he could make his recovery, and so, passing my left leg forward, I seized his sword by the hilt. At the same moment I threatened an imbroccata at his face, and while he raised his buckler to bear my thrust, gave his hilt-points such a mighty wrench with my left that, seeing he had not the Italian grip, I was able to tear his sword from his grasp.
It was no fair encounter. He was a pretty swordsman at the old swashing sword and buckler play, but having been at sea all his manhood he had never had occasion to learn the new fence as I had, and would not, I think, if he had been able, for, like most Englishmen of that time, he greatly despised it. I could not but be sorry for him to see him stand at my mercy, as he now did, nor could I resent his angry words.
'Curse on your foining Italian birdspit play,' said he savagely as I returned him his sword. 'Curse on your skewer scullion tricks. Did you fight like a man, you should not have won her. Still won her you have, and by that I abide. Take her, and rest you merry with your light-o'-love.'