"Dogs!" I shouted, "do you fear to meet one man? Come on, and I will show you how an Englishman can die."
A moment they waited, and then from out the ranks sprang the tall Spaniard with the white plume, whom I had seen but a few moments ago. Bowing, he faced me with a drawn sword.
"Ah, Sir Thomas!" he cried, "we meet again."
It was the Count DeNortier. For a moment I stood spellbound in astonishment. DeNortier!—I had left him on the floor, on that last night upon the island, and had thought him dead, or at least stranded and alone on that far-away island, and now I saw him here, leading the charge against me.
"DeNortier!" I cried. "What dost thou here?"
He laughed as he answered:
"As soon as I recovered from the buffet that thou didst deal me, I rushed out into the open air, and hearing Drake's men outside, I evaded them. Crossing over to the other side of the island, I boarded a fleet schooner that I had concealed there, ready to sail at a moment's notice, her crew in readiness. We sailed away, and met a galleon going to join the Spanish fleet. They were glad enough to promise me a pardon for my past misdeeds to secure my services. So here I am. Gods! It is well that I recovered myself when I did on that last night—a few moments later, and I would have been in Paradise," and he laughed loudly.
"But if thou dost remember, twice have I promised to meet thee, and settle all our differences—that time has come. On guard!"
We crossed swords; the others, clearing a space and leaning upon their weapons, watched us; the senseless body of the lad behind me. DeNortier cut at me furiously, but I met his blow, and returned it with a vengeance. Gone was my fatigue of a moment ago; it was as though the strength that I had felt in the old days had flowed back into my veins. I was bleeding from a dozen wounds, but I felt it not, for the glow of some wondrous wine seemed to warm me through. I was master of myself; my wrist as strong and supple, my eye as keen and cunning as it had ever been, for I was determined to kill this man.
He had kept me confined for months. I could have forgiven him that, but I could not forget that he had insulted, on that memorable night, Lady Margaret Carroll, by coupling her name with his. What though she was to be the bride of Lord Dunraven, I would avenge this insult to her; she could not prevent me from doing this. Ah! it would be sweet to fight once more for her. Her hand and love were hers to bestow where she wished, but she could not say me nay in this matter, and so with a right joyful heart I faced the Spaniard in the gathering gloom.