Redhall rushed to the assault, and both their swords became engaged from point to hilt; but Roland acted strictly on the defensive. He knew that to slay Redhall would be both dangerous and dishonourable; while, if the reverse happened, Redhall would gain immortal honour at court, and run no secondary risk. Vipont was a poor soldier of fortune, who lived by knight-service and the sword; while Redhall was a powerful baron, allied to many warlike nobles, and a high officer of state. Roland parried one _counter-en-carte_ so close to his throat that it would certainly have slain him where the gorget met the cuirass; and then, finding that he had to do with no ordinary swordsman, he endeavoured to twist his own rapier in his adversary's, and lock-in; but Redhall met his blade in time; it glided along his own like lightning, and then they both retired a step. In the palace yard the trumpet sounded for the march; as Roland became impatient his anger rose, and he replied to four terrible thrusts by one which pierced the shoulder-blade of his adversary, and hurled him to the earth, breaking his sword like a crystal wand as he fell. In the sequel it will be seen how fortunate this thrust was for Jane Seton. "Now, hold thee, Vipont!" cried Leslie, through his barred helmet, as he ran up at that moment, "by all the powers, thou hast slain the king's advocate!" "Be easy," said Roland, smiling, as he carefully sheathed his sword; "dost think the devil dies so readily?" "'S death! art thou not mad, to be fencing here like a French sword-player when our trumpets are sounding?" said Leslie, as he assisted Redhall to rise. "You are not wounded, my lord, I hope?" "'Tis only a stab like a button-hole--pshaw! I will make a sure account of it," said Redhall, wrapping his cloak about him, and striking the hilt of his sword into the top of the empty sheath. "A good day to thee, thou hypocrite and assassin in black taffeta," said Roland, leaping on his caparisoned horse, which Lintstock led up at that moment. "Farewell, thou ruffian and cut-throat in plate and cloth-of-gold," replied Redhall, in the same tone of fierce irony. "I will remember thy politeness, Sir Adam." "I will not forget thine, Sir Roland;--adieu." And thus they separated, with bent brows, and eyes and hearts full of fire and hatred. CHAPTER XX. THE BLACK PAGE. "Ha! there was a fatal evidence. All's over now, indeed! The morning tide shall sweep his corpse to sea, And hide all memory of this stern night's work."--SCOTT.