"One--two--three!" It was weird to the onlookers, for the yard grew
still, and you could hear nothing but maybe a shifting foot or a
hard breathing. "Four--five--six!" There was a tenseness in the air,
and Juste Duvarney, as if he felt a menace in the words, seemed to
lose all sense of wariness, and came at me lunging, lunging with
great swiftness and heat. I was incensed now, and he must take what
fortune might send; one can not guide one's sword to do the least
harm fighting as did we.
I had lost blood, and the game could go on no longer. "Eight!" I
pressed him sharply now. "Nine!" I was preparing for the trick
which would end the matter, when I slipped on the frosty stones,
now glazed with our tramping back and forth, and, trying to recover
myself, left my side open to his sword. It came home, though I
partly diverted it. I was forced to my knees, but there, mad,
unpardonable youth, he made another furious lunge at me. I threw
myself back, deftly avoided the lunge, and he came plump on my
upstretched sword, gave a long gasp, and sank down.
At that moment the doors of the courtyard opened, and men stepped
inside, one coming quickly forward before the rest.
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