At this Frazer appeared satisfied. “Towaye, wait. I will end the discussion with their leader first; later we can argue with the others.” So saying, he let fall his horn to the sand beside him.
“I would to God,” muttered Marlowe, “I had killed him that day in the ‘Tabard.’”
Frazer caught the tenor of the wish and smiled again. “Sir Poet,” he said, rolling back the sleeves of his doublet, “then we discussed the baiting of a bear, and I waxed eloquent for the pastime. Again we are in the same position, you disapproving from mercy to the animal, I enthusiastic of very love for the sport. But now ’tis not a bear I would fain see pestered; ’tis better still—a wolf!” Whereupon, as his arms were now bared to the elbows, he raised his rapier and saluted the soldier with an easy grace. “I wait!”
The weapons crossed, slithered, separated, and crossed again. Then Vytal lunged, and Frazer, falling back apace, parried successfully, even as the point touched his doublet. Next, in feigned alarm, his arm, wavering, left the heart exposed, and Vytal thrust again. But the stroke was answered with lightning speed, and, save for an even swifter parry, the response would have been final.
Now, with extreme caution, weapons apart, now with seemingly rash bursts of daring, the two fenced for several minutes, the advantage appearing to change with every move.
To Marlowe, even more than to the principals, the moment was desperate. For, being forced to guard Towaye, he could follow the contest only by the sound of the rapiers, which, in rasping voice, told him that Frazer had mastered the art of fence since their fight on London Bridge. With astonishment and apprehension he wondered why the ring and slither were so long continued, for his straining ears could not explain that which a single glance, had he dared to risk it, would have made evident.
Behind Frazer the water shone like a vast burning-glass, while behind Vytal the forest was a soft background of shade. The glare almost blinded Vytal’s eyes; the shadows rested Frazer’s. And the latter made the most of his advantage. With quick and varied sidelong springs he used the reflected sunlight as a second weapon, more baffling than the first. Nevertheless, with brows contracted and lids lowered, Vytal so screened his eyes when Frazer, with steps aside, brought the glare into play, that he contrived to gain despite the disadvantage.
Gradually his opponent fell back toward the water’s edge.
The weapons played faster and more furiously than before, the sound of Frazer’s quick-drawn breath mingling itself with the hoarse whisper of steel as the irresistible swordsman impelled him backward inch by inch. Strangely enough, he had never once made a move toward the horn, and now it lay well beyond his reach.
Suddenly at the water’s brink Vytal’s rapier, darting forward, zigzagged about its foe like a flash of forked lightning, and Frazer fell to one knee. At this Vytal would have thrust it home, but his great height compelled him to lean so far forward that the water, in which he now stood ankle-deep, cast up its glare directly into his eyes, and for a second he was subject to a retinal blur, while splotches of silver obscured his vision. At this instant Frazer, springing to an erect position, lunged viciously, but the thrust was parried with blind instinct, and Vytal’s half-closed eyes saw his adversary fall back, steadily back, before him into the sea.