It all came back to me, and I could remember how I had turned away in the throes of my first real grief. Ah! many since then had old "Time" brought me, but none so bitter as the first.
Strange thoughts to think, as I pressed the sea rover back nearer the wall.
Ah! I had him—but he sprang nimbly aside, and my blade passed under his arm.
I had forgotten my scheme to spare his life; the blood thirst was upon me; the blood of the fighting Richmonds was up. Angered by the long fight, angered at myself that I had not slain him when I had a chance, I pressed him harder and harder, with no thought but to run him through.
And now his back was against the wall; he could retreat no further. He turned in despair, as I have seen some hunted thing do when driven to its lair; as I have seen some lone wolf when brought to bay by the hunters, and hope has fled, determined to strike one last blow, and then if need be, to go down with its face to its foes, and its teeth clinched in the throat of some good hound.
The adventurer sprang at me in such fury that I was compelled to give back a pace or two, or be cut to pieces. But his strength was gone; he was exhausted—the end had come.
I know not at that last moment, whether I would have spared his life—I cannot tell; but Fate, who ever stands patiently at our side, awaiting a favorable opportunity to interfere, took the matter out of my hands. For even as I drew back to end the matter by one home thrust, my feet slipped upon the stone and I stumbled.
With a cry, he thrust full at my breast, a blow that would have finished me; but he was too much exhausted to strike true. The blade slipped between my arm and my shoulder, and caught for an instant—it was enough. Recovering myself, I made one good lunge. He had on no armor, and the blade striking him full in the breast, right above the heart, passed entirely through his body and stood out a foot behind his back.
With a shout, he threw up his hands and dropped like a log, the force of the fall wrenching the blade from his body. I stood holding the dripping sword in my hand, and looked down at him, as he lay upon the floor. A slight shudder passed over his body; one deep, long sigh came from his lips—and then he lay motionless.