"Enough!" I exclaimed. "If he wishes me to stand erect, I will stand erect. Only do not again interrupt."
"Very well," replied Walker, and stepping aside, he for the second time gave the signal: "On guard!"
I whirled up my cutlass. Medina stabbed at my heart. For all the quickness with which I bent to the right, his point gashed full through my left arm. But already my sword was descending in a sweeping stroke, and the fierce sting of my wound gave all the more force to the blow. Medina tore free his blade and whirled it up between my descending cutlass and his head. But for his quickness, I believe I should have split his skull to the chin.
Given a fraction of a second more time, he, being so skilled a swordsman, might even have glanced my stroke, despite its weight. As it was, the edge of my blade caught the flat of his at a square angle, and drove it down upon his head close above the temple. He fell like a steer beneath the poleaxe, while my sword blade broke clean off, a span beyond the hilt, and whirred down upon the dry soil.
"He fell like a steer: my swordblade broke clean off, a span beyond the hilt"
"Dios!" cried Malgares.