He did not fall; but I pressed close with sword and dagger before he could bring the pike to use, and he backed further up the stairs. He caught the pike nearer the point, that he might wield it better at close quarters; but the long handle made it an awkward weapon, by striking against the wall, which continually curved behind him. We were sword to sword, and against my dagger he had his pike, but the dagger was the freer weapon for defence though not so far-reaching for attack.
The man was very strong, but he had the shorter thrust and offered the broader target. We continued at it, thrust and parry, give and take. All the time he retreated up the winding staircase, which was so narrow that we had little elbow room, and this was to his advantage as he needed less than I. Another thing soon came to his advantage: the stairs curved out of the light cast by the lantern below, so that he backed into darkness, yet I was still visible to him. I cannot tell by what sense I knew where to meet his sword-point, yet certainly my dagger rang against it each time it would have stung me out of the dark. As for his pike, I now kept it busy enough in meeting my own thrusts. Whether or not I was drawn by the knowledge that the Countess was above, I continued to attack so incessantly, and with such good reach, that my antagonist still retreated upward. I followed him into the darkness; and then the advantage was with me, as being slender.
Hitherto I had offered him my full front, but now I half turned my back to the wall, so that his blade might scarce find me at all, and that I might stand less danger of being forced backward off my feet. Well, so we prodded the darkness with our steel feelers in search of each other's bodies on those narrow stairs, striking sparks from the stone walls which our weapons were bound to meet by reason of the continual curvature.
At last the broad form of my adversary was suddenly thrown into faint light by a narrow window in the wall. I staked all upon one swift thrust. It caught him full in the belly, and ran how far up his body I know not. With a cry he fell forward, and I was hard put to it to save my sword and avoid going down with him. But I got myself and my sword free, and went on up the stairs as fast as I could feel my way.
In a few moments I heard steps coming from above, and a rough voice shouting down, "Ho, Gaspard, did you call? What the devil's up?" It was the other guard, who must have been asleep to have been deaf to the clash of our weapons, but whom his comrade's death-cry had roused. I trusted that the walls of the tower had confined that death-cry from the chateau; fortunately, the narrow window was toward the open fields.
I stopped where I was. When the man's steps sounded a few feet from me, I said "Halt!" and, telling him his comrade was dead, proposed the terms I had offered the latter. There was a moment's silence: then a clicking sound, and finally a great flash of fiery light with a loud report, and the smell of smoke. By good luck I had flattened myself against the wall before speaking, and the charge whizzed past me. Thinking the man might have another pistol in readiness, I stood still. But he turned and ran up the stairs. I stumbled after him.
Presently the stairway curved into light such as we had left at the bottom. The guard ran on in the light, and finally stepped forth to a landing no wider than the stairs; where there hung a lantern over a three-legged stool, beyond which was a door. At sight of this my heart bounded.
At the very edge of the landing the man turned and faced me, pointing a second pistol. As the wheel moved, I dropped forward. The thing missed fire entirely, and, flinging it down with a curse, the man drew his sword and seized a pike that stood against the wall. I charged recklessly up the steps, bending my body to avoid the pike. It went through my doublet, just under the left armpit. Ere he could disencumber it I pressed forward upon the landing. I turned his sword with my dagger, and thrust with my own sword under the pike, piercing his side. Only wounded, he leaped back, drawing the pike from my clothes. He aimed at me again with that weapon. In bending away from it, I fell on my side, but instantly turned upon my back.
The man moved to stand over me. I let go my sword, and caught the pike in my hand as it descended. He then tried to spit me with his sword, but I checked its point with the guard of my dagger. I thought I was near my end. He had only to draw up his sword for another downward thrust; but there was a sudden faltering, or hesitation, in his movements, probably a blindness of his eyes, the effect of his wound. In that instant of his uncertainty, I swung my dagger around and ran it through his leg. He fell forward upon me, nearly driving the breath out of my body. My dagger arm, extended as it had been, was fortunately free. I crooked my elbow, embraced my adversary, and sank the dagger deep into his back. I felt his quiver of death.
After I had rolled his body off me, and sheathed my sword and dagger, I took out the key and unlocked the door. Inside the vaulted room of stone, which was lighted by a candle, stood the Countess and Mathilde.