"Sitting chained to the floor," I replied.
At this the Captain suddenly leaped back almost to where I was, and I suppose his intention was to place himself eventually where he would have me between him and my father and could kill me without ceasing to face the latter. But he may have considered an attempt to pass over me as unsafe for his subsequent footing, and so his next movement was sidewise: my father, following close, gave him work every moment. The Captain again stepping backward, I was now at his right and a little in front, so that, if he could gain but a spare second, he could send a finishing thrust my way. With my head turned so as to keep my eyes upon him, I could see by his look that he was determined not to risk my outliving him.
My father, too busy in meeting the Captain's lunges, and in trying what thrust might elude his defence, thought best to expend no more breath in talk with me, and so the fighting went on without words. Suppose, thought I, my father kills the Captain but the Captain first kills me? Had I not better now tell my father to seek the Tower of Morlon and release a person confined there? But if I did that, the Captain would hear, and suppose he killed my father as well as me! I held my tongue.
The Captain now maintained his position, neither giving ground nor pressing forward. The two combatants were between me and the window, through which still came sounds of struggle from the yard below. But these sounds were fewer, except those of cheers, which grew more frequent.
"Good! Our friends are gaining the day!" said my father to me.
"But you, Messieurs, shall not crow over it!" cried the Captain, and made a long thrust, as swift as lightning. My father caught it on the guard of his hilt, within short distance of his breast, at the same instant stepping back. The Captain did not follow, but darted his sword at me, with the cry, "Not for you the Countess!" I contracted my body and thought myself done for. My father's impulsive forward movement, however, disconcerted the Captain's arm in the very moment of his lunge, and his point but feebly stung my side and flew back again, his guard recovered none too soon to save himself. My father's thrusts became now so quick and continuous that the Captain fell back to gain breath. My father drove him to the wall. Shouting a curse, the Captain thrust for my father's midriff. My father, with a swift movement, received the sword between his arm and body, and at the same instant ran his own rapier into the Captain's unguarded front, pushed it through his lung, and pinned him to the wall.
