There seems little enough in the words, yet I cannot tell how that taunt angered me. In the mouth of another I had not minded it, but I had a way of growing hot whenever I thought of my cousin and my lady in the same minute of time. It called to my mind a flood of bitter memories. In this encounter, at any rate, it was the saving of me. Once more I was myself, and now I had that overmastering passionate hate which I lacked before. When I crossed swords again I felt no doubt of the issue and desired only to hasten it. He on his part must have seen something in my eyes which he did not like, for he ceased his flourishes and fell on defence. Then it was that the real combat of the day commenced. Before it had been little more than a trial of skill, now it was a deadly and determined battle. In my state of mind I would have killed my foe with a light heart, however much I might have sorrowed for it after. And now he began to see the folly of his conduct in the fore-part of the fight. I was still fresh and stout of arm; he was a little weary and his self-confidence a little gone. "By God, Gilbert, you will eat your words," I cried, and had at him with might and main. I fenced as I had never fenced before, not rashly, but persistently, fiercely, cunningly. Every attempt of his I met and foiled. Again and again I was within an ace of putting an end to the thing, but for some trifling obstacle which hindered me. He now fought sullenly, with fear in his eyes, for he knew not what I purposed concerning him. I warrant he rued his taunt a hundred times in those brief minutes. At last my opportunity came. He made a desperate lunge forward, swung half round and exposed his right arm. I thrust skilfully and true. Straight through cloth and skin went my blade, and almost ere I knew I had spitted him clean through the arm just above the elbow. The sword dropped from his helpless hand. I had put forth too much strength, for as he stumbled back with the shock of the wound I could not check my course, but staggered heavily against him and together we rolled on the ground. In a second I was on my feet and had drawn out my weapon. With lowered point I awaited his rising, for he was now powerless to continue. "Well," said I, "have you had satisfaction?" He rose to his feet with an ugly smile. "Sufficient for the present, cousin John," said he. "I own you have got the better of me this time. Hi, Stephen, will you lend me a kerchief to bind this cursed wound?" One of his companions came up and saw to his wants. I made to go away, for there was no further need of my presence, but my cousin called me back. "Farewell, John," he said. "Let us not part in anger, as before. Parting in anger, they say, means meeting in friendship. And, ’faith, I would rather part from you in all love and meet you next in wrath."