There was no way out of it. This our enemy saw. Like a man who will risk all on one cast, without a sign of warning, he sprang with all his quickness with his sword pointed outwards at his foe. So fast was he that I feared he would kill him on the spot. But the man in black must have expected such a move. As lithely as a cat he stepped to one side. De Marsac, with no object to bring him to a stop, plunged furiously headlong and fell stumbling to the turf. It was as ridiculous a situation as I ever saw. My brother and I, forgetful of the seriousness of the moment, let out loud peals of laughter. The stranger hardly stirred and that only to follow his enemy guardedly with his eyes. De Marsac was filled with shame and wrath that he had been so smoothly outwitted. He raised himself cautiously on his hands and knees and looked around. Then, seeing that he was not threatened, he sprang again to his feet and faced his foe. There followed a single exchange that I shall not forget as long as I shall draw the breath of life. De Marsac raised his sword on high, as you would a battle-ax, and with all the force he could summon started a blow. If it had ever reached its mark, it would have split the stranger’s skull in twain. But the man in black was this time even more alert than he had been before. With a quick step he jumped in close to his foeman’s body. He raised the oaken staff over his head. He caught the blade on it as it descended. The edge of the steel must have cut deep into the wood, for it held there as firmly as though it were in a vise. A quick twist of the wrist and it was torn from De Marsac’s grasp and flew twirling and spinning in the air. Like a bird that has been pierced by an arrow it came down and clattered to the earth. The man in black showed no more concern than if he were plucking a flower from a field. He went over and took the sword in his hand. He ran his fingers along the blade and wiped away the clay that had stuck to it where it had fallen. Then with the utmost deliberation, he snapped it across his knee and tossed the pieces contemptuously at De Marsac’s feet. “I could crush the life out of you now, De Marsac,” he said, “with this club of mine. Or for a second time I might let you go.” He hesitated as though he was thinking and with a snap of his fingers said, “Pshaw! What are you to me but a worm crawling on the ground.” De Marsac uttered not a word. He stood with his arms at his side, his body swaying slightly waiting for a new turn in the affair. The man in black took to pacing up and down. For a moment he was deep in thought as though he had forgotten our existence. Then he looked suddenly up and with heavy brows addressed our enemy. “Go back to your King, De Marsac,” he growled, and with a sweep of his hand as commanding as an emperor. “Tell him that I defy him to his teeth. Tell him that before the year’s end I shall sweep him from his throne.”