The position now was this: Two men were running, with the lads some five-and-twenty yards behind, and gaining on them fast. Two men were fifty yards away, to right and left; and two more were right behind, sixty or seventy yards, in full pursuit. "Forward!" shouted Mark. "No mercy, Darley; run your fellow through, and then turn and spit that fellow on your right." The two men in front heard the words, and redoubled their efforts, but they were heavy, middle-aged scoundrels, and plodded clumsily over the stone-strewed ground; while, forgetting their wounds in the excitement, Mark and Ralph bounded along, leaping blocks that stood in their way, and gaining so fast upon their flying enemies, that in a few minutes they were close up: and the retreating pair, in response to the yells of their companions, and in despair, turned at bay, when Mark, who was first, leaped straight at his man, turning the fellow's rusty sword aside, and came upon the lower part of his chest with his knees, like a stone from a catapult. Down went the man, with his sword flying out of his hand, and Mark nearly fell a couple of yards beyond him, but, active as a fallow deer, he saved himself by a couple of leaps, as his feet touched the ground; and he turned, to see Ralph's man down and motionless, as his companion leaped to his side, and faced round to meet the next two, who, urged on by the shouts from the hill, charged at them, carried on by their legs, almost involuntarily, their spirit having little to do with it. The next minute swords were clashing, there were a few quick parries and thrusts, and one man dropped his weapon, as Ralph's sword passed through his shoulder, almost simultaneously with a sharp clang, caused by the shell of Mark's weapon striking against that of his adversary, whose blade broke short off at the hilt. Then, without a moment's hesitation, the lad struck sidewise at the fellow with his fist, catching him in the ear, and he staggered sidewise, _hors de combat_. "Now for the others," cried Ralph wildly, his blood up, and ready for anything; and they were about to dash at them, when, to their utter astonishment, the last two turned and ran up the slope toward their captain and the rest of the party, who were coming to their aid. "No, no, stop, stop!" yelled Mark, half choking the while with a hoarse hysterical laugh. "Oh, what a game! Here, look; that fellow's getting his sword." Without another word, the pair dashed at the disarmed man, who had risen and picked up his weapon, but he turned and fled. "Who'd have thought of that?" cried Mark wildly. "Shall we turn and attack the others as they come on?" "No," said Ralph, recovering his coolness; "let's trot on now. It's madness to try it again." "Well, I suppose it would be pushing it too far. They can't say we're cowards if we retreat now." "No; but we can say they are," cried Ralph. "Why, what a set of curs, to be beaten by us."