"Si, señor," I answered, in turn.
We were each handed a cutlass, and led up within striking distance. Malgares and Walker drew back three paces.
"On guard!" cried Walker, in a thin, high voice.
Instantly I dropped almost to the ground and made a long-armed sweep at my opponent's knee. He leaped back barely in time to save himself from being hamstrung.
"Arreste!" shrilled Walker, springing between us.
I rose and stood back, staring from him to Malgares.
"What now?" I demanded.
"That is not fencing," protested Walker.
"No. It is fighting," I retorted.
Walker wheeled about and exchanged whispers with his principal. He turned again, to address Malgares: "My principal demands that the duel shall be according to the rules of swordsmanship."