“Why?” I demanded.
“Because,” he replied with cutting deliberation, “you would not have had the courage to raise an arm in your own defence!”
The hot blood stole slowly to my neck and face. I saw out of the corner of my eye that the armorer was rolling his sleeves up over his elbows, while one hand reached out for the hammer that lay alongside the anvil.
“Have you come here to pick a quarrel?” I demanded.
“As you wish,” he said and spat derisively upon the ground.
It was a challenge flung into my teeth. I was but a lad, of course, but for all that of big bone and strong from the life which I had lived in the open. My opponent was a man full grown and, from what I had just seen, as quick and slippery in his actions as an eel. For the moment in my wrath I took little heed of these things but knotted my fists together and advanced towards him.
I thought that if I could strike the first blow I could settle him once for all and so end his insolence. With a lunge that ought to have carried him off his feet I made at him. To my surprise I beat only into the empty air. The fellow had slipped to the one side with a light gliding motion that for quickness fairly took my breath away. Then, to add fire to my discomfiture, he calmly placed his hands flat upon his hips and stood smiling at me.
“A Norman calf!” he cried. “If the rest of your race can fight no better than that, it is no wonder that the King of France will soon devour you!”
I made no answer. The taunt struck me with the sharpness of a knife. If I was full of wrath before, I was boiling with anger now. I steadied myself on the balls of my feet and looked the fellow in the eye. Then, with greater quickness than at first, I rushed again upon him. But he was ready, even more than I had expected. Instead of leaping to the side, he jumped back and, as I came towards him, struck me a sharp blow on the face with his open hand.
By this time I was fighting mad, but rather at my own bungling than at his adroitness. I would have given my right arm to have caught him a single stunning crash. I plunged forward, reckless and determined to the last degree. Now he slipped past me so close that I was able to touch the sleeve of his coat. Again his hot breath touched my face. He came in so near that he gave my arm a twist. But with all my effort I could not lay a finger on him. It was like a game—a contest with speed on one side and strength on the other——