It was over and done before I was conscious of the happening.
I had acted purely upon instinct as men will in performing what they have been taught.
To ward his blow, I came almost unconsciously into that guard of Marozzo's which is known as the iron girdle.

I parried and on the stroke I lunged, and so, taking the poor wretch entirely unawares, I sank the half of my iron into his vitals ere he or I had any thought that the thing was possible.
I saw his little eyes grow very wide, and the whole expression of his face become one of intense astonishment.
He moved his lips as if to speak, and then the sword clattered from his one hand, the lanthorn from his other; he sank forward quietly, still looking at me with the same surprised glance, and so came further on to my rigidly held blade, until his breast brought up against the quillons.
For a moment he remained supported thus, by just that rigid arm of mine and the table against which his weight was leaning.

Then I withdrew the blade, and in the same movement flung the weapon from me.

Before the sword had rattled to the floor, his body had sunk down into a heap beyond the table, so that I could see no more than the yellow, egg-like top of his bald head.
Awhile I stood watching it, filled with an extraordinary curiosity and a queer awe.

Very slowly was it that I began to realize the thing I had done.