"He Placed His Hands upon Their Shoulders"
The seamen cried out in Spanish, a tongue which I understood, and their conversation, mostly about their voyages, was carried on in that same language. But they talked only of such things as seamen were wont to do; so turning away from my station, I retraced my steps toward my room.
Why had this man come so quickly into this place, and whispering to two of the seamen, gone out as silently and speedily as he had appeared? Plainly he was known to these men, for they had shouted at him, and two had followed him out without a word. Where? Was it in pursuit of me? And if so with what motive? Perhaps they meant to capture me, and exact a ransom from my doting father, and at the thought, I smiled bitterly to myself. Ah! a kingly ransom would he pay for my return. Long would he grieve, together with the saintly Richard, should I vanish from his ken.
To reach this place was easier than to find my way back through the long labyrinth of turns and corners, of cross streets and alleys. Retracing my steps, I wended my course through a maze of dark lanes, and had almost despaired of ever finding my way home, when turning I saw two men, who seemed to be engaged in an earnest discussion, and quickening my steps, I approached them, inquiring, as I did so, whether they could direct me to Cheapside.
The taller turned quickly at the sound of my voice, and stood looking down at me. He was wrapped in a great cloak, and I only saw, bent upon me, the flash of a pair of cold black eyes. "Turn the first corner to the right," he answered, with a slight foreign accent. "That will take thee straight to it," and he turned again to his companion as though eager to be rid of me.
With a brief word of thanks I passed on, but had gone only a few steps when I heard a loud oath, and wheeling about saw one of the men draw his sword and make for the other, who seemed to be surprised and dismayed by the sudden attack.
The sword flashed in the moonlight, and I barely had time to dash back, and running in between them to catch it upon my own, which I had hastily drawn, else the luckless victim had departed this flesh in a twinkling.
With another loud cry, the assailant made a hasty pass at me, and we closed. Even in the moonlight I was struck with the unusual beauty of the face—its long aquiline nose, and keen hawk eyes. The hat had fallen from his head, and his jet black hair shone like the wing of a raven.
I had small time to observe these things, however, for he pressed me with the fury of a demon, now thrusting with the point, then cutting at me with the blade. I had on merely a light rapier, more for dress than work, while he was using a heavy service sword, and I began to realize that this could not last much longer, for he would beat me down by the strength of his arm, as with all his swordsmanship he pressed upon me.
I was bleeding from several slight wounds where he had touched me, for he was undoubtedly the finest blade with whom I had ever crossed swords—I, Thomas Winchester, accounted one of the best swordsmen of the North Country; backward, backward he was pressing me, and I could see the evil look on his face, as he steadily pushed me to the wall.