Leicester then spurred his horse, and galloped without stopping until he reached a sequestered spot, environed by lofty oaks, about a mile's distance from the Castle, and in an opposite direction from the scene to which curiosity was drawing every spectator. He there dismounted, bound his horse to a tree, and only pronouncing the words, “Here there is no risk of interruption,” laid his cloak across his saddle, and drew his sword.
Tressilian imitated his example punctually, yet could not forbear saying, as he drew his weapon, “My lord, as I have been known to many as one who does not fear death when placed in balance with honour, methinks I may, without derogation, ask wherefore, in the name of all that is honourable, your lordship has dared to offer me such a mark of disgrace as places us on these terms with respect to each other?”
“If you like not such marks of my scorn,” replied the Earl, “betake yourself instantly to your weapon, lest I repeat the usage you complain of.”
“It shall not need, my lord,” said Tressilian. “God judge betwixt us! and your blood, if you fall, be on your own head.”
He had scarce completed the sentence when they instantly closed in combat.
But Leicester, who was a perfect master of defence among all other exterior accomplishments of the time, had seen on the preceding night enough of Tressilian's strength and skill to make him fight with more caution than heretofore, and prefer a secure revenge to a hasty one. For some minutes they fought with equal skill and fortune, till, in a desperate lunge which Leicester successfully put aside, Tressilian exposed himself at disadvantage; and in a subsequent attempt to close, the Earl forced his sword from his hand, and stretched him on the ground. With a grim smile he held the point of his rapier within two inches of the throat of his fallen adversary, and placing his foot at the same time upon his breast, bid him confess his villainous wrongs towards him, and prepare for death.
“I have no villainy nor wrong towards thee to confess,” answered Tressilian, “and am better prepared for death than thou. Use thine advantage as thou wilt, and may God forgive you! I have given you no cause for this.”
“No cause!” exclaimed the Earl, “no cause!—but why parley with such a slave? Die a liar, as thou hast lived!”
He had withdrawn his arm for the purpose of striking the fatal blow, when it was suddenly seized from behind.
The Earl turned in wrath to shake off the unexpected obstacle, but was surprised to find that a strange-looking boy had hold of his sword-arm, and clung to it with such tenacity of grasp that he could not shake him off without a considerable struggle, in the course of which Tressilian had opportunity to rise and possess himself once more of his weapon. Leicester again turned towards him with looks of unabated ferocity, and the combat would have recommenced with still more desperation on both sides, had not the boy clung to Lord Leicester's knees, and in a shrill tone implored him to listen one moment ere he prosecuted this quarrel.