That superiority in men which in spite of every adverse circumstance will not be denied shone so conspicuously in the face and figure of the Frenchman that the row of hairy faces about him looked in wonder. There was a rough jest or two, for Yan Gratz had won his way from the bowsprit aft by buffets and blows, and had waxed fat in the operation. To them he was the very living embodiment of a fighting devil of the sea. But many of them saw something in the cool, impassive expression of the Frenchman--a something which had won him friends (and enemies) before this, and were silent. The Frenchman, with a quiet deliberation, rolled the sleeves of his shirt above his elbows and took the half-pike that was thrust into his hands. It has been said that the Chevalier Mornay was not above the medium height, nor, with the exception of an arm which might have seemed a little too long to be in perfect proportion, gave in his appearance any striking evidence of especial physical prowess. He had been known in London for a graceful and ready sword, and in his few encounters he had never received so much as a scratch. But even Gratz was stricken with wonderment at the appearance of the forearm, which his wide sleeves had so effectually concealed. The arm of the chevalier, as he brought his pike into a posture of defense, showed a more remarkable degree of development than he had ever seen before in any man--Frenchman or Englishman--of his stature. The legs, strong and straight as they were, with a generous bulge at the calf, betrayed nothing of this wonderful arm, which, swelling from a strong though not unslender wrist, rose in fine layers of steel-like ligament, tangled and knotted like the limbs of an oak. And up above the elbow the falling cotton shirt scarcely hid the sturdy bulk of muscle which swelled and trembled as the fingers moved the weapon down upon guard to resist the furious attack of the Hollander. Gratz prided himself no less upon his use of the pike than upon his use of his fists and boots, and, thinking to end the matter in a summary fashion, which might atone for his somewhat awkward fall upon the deck, he began thrusting hotly and with a skill which had hitherto availed his purposes. But he soon discovered that with this Frenchman, whom he had so hardily challenged, he was to have no advantage either in the reach or in the knowledge of the game. Mornay’s play, he quickly learned, was to allow him completely to exhaust himself. This, instead of teaching him caution, only increased his fury, so that at the end of a few moments of fruitless exertion he found himself puffing like a great grampus, the perspiration pouring blindingly into his eyes and down his arms, until his fat hands grew moist and slipped uncertainly upon the handle of his weapon.