He left his sentence uncompleted, and with a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders proceeded on his journey round the room, still carrying the Italian rapier in his hand. Under his tan Halfman’s face blazed and his eyes glittered, but he spoke with a forced calm and a feigned civility:
“Say you so much? Why, I believe your honor, surely. Yet, as they say, seeing is believing, and if you are in the vein for a gentle and joyous passage with buttoned arms, I that am here to entertain your honor would not for the world’s width gainsay you.”
Evander eyed him quietly. “Are you ready at fence?” he inquired. “I shall be pleased to take a lesson from you.”
Halfman’s heart warmed at his words. “The coney creeps towards the gin,” he thought, exultantly; then he answered, aloud:
“Why, if you have a stomach for it you shall not be crossed. Here be two buttoned rapiers, true twins—length, weight, workmanship. I will beleather them in a twink. I promise you I would not hurt your honor.”
“You are very good,” Evander answered, gravely. Halfman was already busy tying two large pads of leather the size of small oranges onto the buttoned blades. While he was at work Evander occupied himself with the contents of the room until Halfman, having finished his job, advanced towards him with the weapons extended. Suddenly he paused.
“Stop!” he said. “Let us make a wager on our game. I always play with more heart so. Here is my stake.”
He began to fumble at his doublet, and presently produced from an inner pocket a great thumb-ring with a ruby in it.
“I gained that,” he said, “at the sacking of a Spanish town. ’Tis worth a pope’s ransom. Set what you please against it.”
Evander lifted the ring from the table where Halfman placed it and took it to the window to look at it closely. Presently he laid it on the table again.