As he went forth, Angel-lane—a narrow street running nearly parallel with the walls on the north of the city, in the direction of All Hallows—appeared quite deserted, and he thought that Urso Gives was gone. But he had scarcely reached the church, when a tall figure stepped from behind a buttress and barred his path.
"Out of my way, fellow!" he cried, haughtily, feeling sure it was Urso.
"Not till I have spoken with you," rejoined the other, maintaining his ground.
The Independent then continued, in a stern, menacing voice, "On the peril of your life, I forbid you to re-enter the house you have just profaned by your presence. You have beguiled the damsel who dwells there by your false speeches, and have sought to corrupt her. You cannot feign ignorance that she is my affianced wife, for I myself heard her tell you so."
"Since you have been playing the spy, you might easily have learnt that I am coming again to-morrow night at the same hour," rejoined Careless, in a mocking tone.
"Think it not," rejoined Urso, fiercely. "Since you will not be deterred from your evil courses by the warning given you, look to yourself!"
And suddenly drawing forth the long tuck-sword which he held under his cloak, he placed its point at the other's breast.
Careless sprang back and so saved his life, and drawing his own sword, their blades were instantly crossed.
Notwithstanding his eminently peaceful vocation, Urso proved no contemptible swordsman, and Careless failed to disarm him as soon as he expected. The clash of steel roused the inmates of the houses, and some of them opened their doors, but when they perceived that an officer of rank was engaged with a Roundhead they did not interfere.
Mary Rushout, however, came forth, screaming with terror, and reached the combatants just as Careless, having knocked Urso's weapon from his grasp, seized him by the throat, and forced him down upon his knees, exclaiming: