But the other rogue was of sterner mold. With an oath, he whipped out his cutlass, and was upon me as I was rising from the ground. Well it was that I had on my light steel breastplate, for the blade, coming viciously down, struck full upon it, and glanced off harmlessly, or I would not have been here to tell the tale. In an instant I had drawn my sword and was on guard. "I have against thee a goodly account to settle, Master Herrick," I said. "The night wanes, and we must to business." "Aye," he cried, "I will rid the world of one rascal," and he pressed upon me, thrusting, cutting, striking with such fury that, had my blade not been a good one, it would have broken sheer off, from the very force of the blows. I let him come on, contenting myself with parrying his thrusts, for by and by I knew that he would exhaust himself, and then I would force from him the secret of my imprisonment; for the priest had whispered it into his ear before I had rolled down upon them. Of Father Francis I had no fear. He would not bring help to his comrade. No, I knew him too well to think that he would fail to protect himself. It was to his interest that Herrick should be silenced, now that he knew so much, and he was too shrewd not to know what was best for his own interest. So I held my own, and let him exhaust himself with his fruitless efforts. Back he came upon me, striking down blow after blow with his blade, any one of which, had it gone home, would have split me like a herring. I could have run him through at any moment, for he left his whole breast exposed in his insane fury; but I merely waited, calmly, coolly meeting every thrust, parrying every cut with a wrist of steel. Five minutes passed, and the smile which at first had been upon his face died away. The great beads of sweat began to gather upon his forehead, as he saw his every trick and maneuver met easily, without an effort; and how fresh I was, and knew that he was rapidly exhausting himself. Another little trick he tried, but I read what was coming in his eyes, even before he thrust, and met him, parried his blade, and thrusting back, laid open his cheek--the first time that I had drawn blood. Then slowly I began to advance towards him, thrusting faster, faster, faster--surrounding him with a flaming wall of steel, which, try as he might, he could not penetrate. Backwards--backwards I pressed him. It was a grim, weird scene. The white, bare walls of the cave lit up by the gleam of one little candle; the shadows coming and going upon the sides, as the air from above flared the wick of the candle. Now we were in the light; now in darkness. The wind was rising outside; already it wailed and moaned, like the souls of the lost. There was not a sound to break the stillness that reigned throughout the cave, save only that--for we had fought in grim silence--only the sound of our feet upon the stones, as we moved and turned hither and thither, and the quick panting of our hot breath.