He paused, as an actor pauses to heighten the effect of a sensation. But as Vytal only met his glance with a cold stare, he resumed, nonchalantly: “We have tried once to invade England, on whose throne Philip would have placed me, but we failed. Now that was but a first attempt. Mark you, the end is not yet.” He stood erect, as if striving to match his height with Vytal’s. “Perhaps you wonder why I have come twice to America? On this point I will satisfy your curiosity. It is because we would lop off this much of my beloved mother’s dominions and amputate a limb, as it were, while waiting to seize the trunk. If all else fail, I shall at least be the King of Virginia and St. Augustine.” He said no more, but waited interestedly now as a spectator of the play instead of an actor. Inexorably Vytal stepped forward, bending his well-tempered weapon in both hands like a bow. Frazer smiled. “Ah, do you seek to break it and vow allegiance?” he inquired, with mock graciousness, “or merely to prove it of Toledo make? In the former case, I create you Knight of the Bodkin; in the latter, believe me, I know well ’tis a supple blade.” “Unluckily,” returned Vytal, wholly disregarding his banter, “it is my duty to cross swords with you. Whether or not you have been so bold as purposely to bring it on yourself by this outrage, I cannot tell. Yet this one thing I know: a man’s duty and reverence are ever to his liege sovereign. In the name of my queen’s honor I am compelled to fight. Save for your scandalous insult I would have taken you alive, but now—to it!” “Stay! First, I pray you, bid the poet and Manteo make no further attack on Towaye, and ask them both to remain here. Only on this condition will I throw aside the horn, trusting to your honor for fair play.” Vytal inclined his head. “Manteo, stand by; and you, Kyt, control Towaye with your aim, but shoot not unless he move.” At this Frazer appeared satisfied. “Towaye, wait. I will end the discussion with their leader first; later we can argue with the others.” So saying, he let fall his horn to the sand beside him. “I would to God,” muttered Marlowe, “I had killed him that day in the ‘Tabard.’” Frazer caught the tenor of the wish and smiled again. “Sir Poet,” he said, rolling back the sleeves of his doublet, “then we discussed the baiting of a bear, and I waxed eloquent for the pastime. Again we are in the same position, you disapproving from mercy to the animal, I enthusiastic of very love for the sport. But now ’tis not a bear I would fain see pestered; ’tis better still—a wolf!” Whereupon, as his arms were now bared to the elbows, he raised his rapier and saluted the soldier with an easy grace. “I wait!”