Each now put his glass to his eye, and fell furiously upon the other with sharp, murderous glances, now lengthening and now shortening his weapon by drawing the tubes in and out. There were feints, parries, thrusts, in short, all the tricks of the fencing-school, and with every moment they seemed to grow more angry. Whenever one was hit he cried out aloud, sprang into the air, cut the most wonderful capers, made the most beautiful entrechats, and turned pirouettes, as well as the best pas-de-seul dancer on the Parisian stage, till his adversary fixed him fast with the shortened telescope. When the other was hit he did precisely the same, and in this way they went on interchangeably with the most violent springs, the maddest gestures, and the most furious cries. The perspiration dropped from their brows, the blood-red eyes seemed starting from their heads, and as there appeared no other cause for their St. Vitus' dance than their looking at each other through their glasses, they might have been taken for maniacs, just escaped from the mad-house. For the rest, it was a very pretty sight. Swammerdamm at last succeeded in driving Leuwenhock from his post by the door,--which he had maintained with obstinate bravery,--and thus carrying on the war in the remoter parts of the ground. George Pepusch saw the opportunity, pressed against the unoccupied door, that was neither barred nor bolted, and slipped into the chamber, but in the next moment he rushed out, exclaiming, "She has fled!--fled!" and then hurried out of the house with the rapidity of lightning. Both Leuwenhock and Swammerdamm were seriously wounded, for both hopped and danced about after a mad fashion, and with their howlings and cryings made a music to it that seemed like the shrieks of the damned in hell. Peregrine knew not how to set about separating them, and thus ending a contest, which was as ludicrous as it was terrific. At last the combatants perceived that the door stood wide open, forgot their duel and their pains, put their destructive weapons into their pockets, and rushed into the chamber. Mr. Tyss took it grievously to heart that the fair one had fled from his house, and wished the abominable Leuwenhock at the devil, when the voice of Alina was heard upon the stairs. She was laughing aloud, and muttered between, "What strange things one does see! Wonderful! incredible!" "What?" cried Peregrine dejectedly, "what wonder has happened now?" "Oh, my dear Mr. Tyss!" exclaimed the old woman, "only come up stairs directly, and go into your chamber." And she opened the room-door with a cunning titter. On entering, O wonder! O joy! the little Dörtje Elverdink tripped up to him, in her dress of tissue, as he had before seen her at Mr. Swammer's. "At length I see you again!" lisped the little one, and contrived to nestle up so closely to Peregrine, that he could not help embracing her most tenderly in spite of all his good resolutions. His senses seemed ecstacied by love and joy.