The brute obeyed, as if he had to do so and knew it, receiving Adam’s order like the clod he was.
The other creatures made such a scrambling to see the show, and otherwise evinced such an abnormal interest in the coming fight, that Adam had no trouble in divining that the whole affair had been prearranged, and that if he did not get killed, he would be arrested, should he slay his opponent. He concluded he was something of a match for the whole outfit.
“Have at you, mountain of foul meat,” he said, as he tossed down his hat. “What a mess you will make, done in slices!”
The young dandy laughed, despite himself, from his place by the door.
Gallows needed no further exasperations. He came marching up to Rust and made a hack at him, mighty enough and vicious enough to break down the stoutest guard and cleave through a man’s whole body as well.
Rust had expected no less than such a stroke. He spared his steel the task of parrying the Gallows’ slash. Nimbly leaping aside, he made a motion that had something debonair in its execution, and cut a ghastly big flap, like a steak, from the monster’s cheek.
The fellow let out an awful bellow and ran at his opponent, striking at him like a mad Hercules.
“Spare yourself, fool-killer,” said Adam. He dared to bow, as he dodged a mighty onslaught, in which Gallows used his sword like a hatchet, and then he flicked the giant’s ear away, bodily, taking something also of his jowl, for good measure.
The great hulk stamped about there like an ox, the blood hastening down from his face and being flung in spatters about him. Adam next cut him deeply in the muscle of his great left arm.
“I warm to my work,” he said, as he darted actively away and back. “Gentlemen, is your choice for a wing or a leg of the ill-smelling bird?”