He was as good as his word, too, and for many minutes the scene at the narrow doorway was appalling and magnificent. There was no need as yet for Tamba to help his master, for Roger de Luce had already shown his prowess, and had fought with men who were fully armed and protected. Now he was contesting the path with natives who bore only the lightest armour, and who, moreover, sought to take him alive. But their numbers made the danger, and our hero realized that once he permitted more than three or four to enter alive he and Tamba would be dragged to the floor. It was therefore with the utmost fury that he set upon the attackers. Thanks to the fact that the entrance to the chapel was narrow, not more than three could come at him at one time, and these he cut down with terrific blows from his club. They staggered and fell, tumbling upon the idol, while a few rolled over it into the chapel. But still they came, till one blow, a little stronger than its predecessors, caused the club to break into fragments. Even then Roger would not give way, and, dropping the club, he flung himself upon the Mexicans after their own fashion, only, instead of attempting to grasp them, he struck right and left with his clenched fists till the entrance was cleared and the enemy retreated in consternation. "We will rush them!" shouted Roger, seeing the effect which his fighting had made. "Leave the prisoner, Tamba, and follow! Close your fists and strike in every direction! Now, quickly, before those priests can rally them!" There was just a bare chance of success, and they snatched at it eagerly. With a bound and a shout which helped to startle the natives, Roger cleared the entrance, his faithful companion close at his heel. Then he rushed at a group of the enemy who stood about the priests discussing the situation with them. There was a shriek of dismay. A few of the Mexicans faced their white prisoner, and endeavoured to check his advance, but the old methods succeeded. Roger's fist brought consternation to their minds, and hardly had the first opponent measured his full length on the ground than the others took to their heels and raced for the stairway which led to the courts below; nor did they halt till they were safely amongst the crowd. "A hot fight," said Roger, breathlessly, and with a reckless laugh. "Never before have I used my fists to such purpose. Look at the knuckles. Even in England I never fought so much, nor struck so many blows. And they are really gone, Tamba?" "All save the men who have fallen to your blows, my lord, and the noble whom you captured," answered the native, eyeing his master with amazement. "Truly it was a brave fight, and I have never seen men struck to the ground in such a way. Show me how it was done." Roger doubled his fist, and displayed a row of knuckles from which the skin had been torn.