“An you call it that,” returned Vytal, who was now pressed closer than ever by St. Magil, Frazer, and the cursing bear-wards, “’twere better—to fight against me! Could you defend the door, I’d go myself—quick!—the game fails us—Save her—’tis what I fight for—see—ah, they have us; we’re lost an you tarry longer—quick—quick, into the shop—” and with that, Vytal, assuming a more aggressive method than hitherto, so drove back his opponents, by the sheer determination and boldness of his attack, that Marlowe, finding space to retreat, and being persuaded by the other’s vehemence, pushed the shop-door open behind him, and, with his rapier still in play, stepped back across the threshold. Once within the shop he closed the door, to which Vytal fell back again slowly, and, maintaining his old position, made further ingress for the moment impossible.
But the odds were now almost hopelessly against the soldier. Frazer had borrowed a broadsword, and, together with St. Magil and three of the bear-wards, who out of six alone remained unwounded, sought to break through Vytal’s wonderful defence. Fortunately only St. Magil and his companion were dexterous swordsmen. It was the numbers, not the skill, of his additional opponents that Vytal feared. But Frazer’s broadsword, although somewhat unwieldy in an unaccustomed hand, by its mere weight had nearly outdone the light rapier opposing it. The soldier, therefore, sought to keep this heavy blade entirely on the defensive, realizing that if once Frazer were allowed to swing it freely it would doubtless strike through the cleverest rapier parry that could possibly seek to avert its downward cleavage.
Few contests have shown a shrewder scientific skill in fencing than Vytal now pitted against the superior force of his antagonists. Thrusting viciously at Frazer, he appeared to neglect his own guard, save where he opposed his poniard against St. Magil’s rapier. By this feint he accomplished a well-conceived end, rendering Frazer’s great sword merely a defensive weapon, and exposing his breast invitingly to the foremost of the unsuspecting bear-wards, who lunged toward the opening so recklessly as to neglect his own defence. In that instant Vytal’s rapier, like lightning, turned aside from its feigned attack on Frazer and pierced the bear-ward’s breast.
As the mortally wounded man fell back, momentarily hindering the onslaught of his friends, the voice of Gammer Watkins reached Vytal from within the shop. “Fool!” she cried to him, “you fight for naught. The bird ha’ flown already with another—ha, the coxcomb robs you of your game—”
But it was for this that Vytal waited. His plan concerning the girl’s safety being now successfully executed, left him free to act entirely for himself. He saw the folly of attempting to hold out longer against so great odds, with no hope of an actual victory. His strength, although not yet seriously impaired, must inevitably sooner or later be exhausted, whereas his opponents could harbor their own by alternately falling back to rest and regain their breath while others in turn kept him occupied.
With this realization, Vytal set his back against the door, seeking to open it and enter the shop, but the latch held it against him. He dared not call to Gammer Watkins for fear of betraying his plan of escape to his adversaries, and so, to their amazement, with not a trace of warning he flung the poniard from his left hand into the face of St. Magil, and, darting that hand behind him, lifted the latch. Instantly he was within the shop, followed by Gorm, Frazer, and as many of the throng as could make their way with a headlong rush after him. They were now like hounds lusting for the blood of a stag at bay, excepting two among the foremost to enter, whether they would or not—namely, the terrified breeches-maker and the watchman, who, lanthorn in hand, had witnessed the contest with a gaping interest instead of seeking to end it as the law demanded.
From the shop’s entrance straight to its rear wall ran a dark passage, at the end of which a window opened high above the Thames. Beside this passage a narrow stairway led to one or two upper chambers. Mounting quickly to a step midway on the staircase, the breeches-maker was followed by many others, who, eager to gain view of so desperate a conflict and to see the final harrying of the prey, pulled one another down from the coveted vantage-point, trampling on the weaker ones that fell. The watchman, gathering up his long gown, had succeeded in arriving at the breeches-maker’s side, thanks to his official superiority, and now, as he held his lanthorn out at arm’s-length over the passage, the dim light through its horn screens fell upon Vytal and others in the hallway, who, headed by Gorm and Frazer, were pressing their game with redoubled fury. The staircase groaned and creaked beneath its trampling burden, the house seeming to echo the clash and whisper of steel, while now and again a bitter oath rang out above the varied clamor. For the rage of Vytal’s enemies only increased as it became evident that the number of those capable of direct attack was necessarily limited by the narrow passage.
Thus he still remained unscathed.
Assuming again the defensive until he had fallen back to a spot immediately beneath the watchman’s overhanging light, he suddenly struck upward with his rapier, and, knocking the lanthorn from its holder’s grasp, brought to the shop utter darkness save for a glimmer of starlight that shone faintly through the rear window.
Then, after the first bewildering moment of gloom, when hoarse cries for lights drowned softer sounds, and the staircase voiced its strain with new groans under the stampede, and each swordsman mistook his neighbor for the enemy, with the result of blundering wounds in the black passage—after that moment of havoc there came a lull, a loud volley of oaths, and the breeches-maker’s laugh was heard crackling like dry wood amid the roar of an angry flame. For one instant even the patch of sky framed by the casement was obscured, and those looking toward the window saw it filled by a dark form that came and went as a cloud across the moon.