I defended myself warily, for of a sudden I had grown conscious of the danger that I ran did he once by luck or strength get past my guard with that point of his which in the spare light I could not follow closely enough to feel secure.
'Neath the fury of his onslaught I was compelled to break ground more than once, and each time he was so swift to follow up his advantage that I had ne'er a chance to retaliate.
Still fear or doubt of the issue I had none.

I needed but to wait until the Marquis's fury was spent by want of breath, to make an end of it.
And presently that which I waited for came about.

His attack began to lag in vigour, and the pressure of his blade to need less resistance, whilst his breathing grew noisy as that of a broken-winded horse.

Then with the rage of a gambler who loses at every throw, he cursed and reviled me with every thrust or lunge that I turned aside.
My turn was come; yet I held back, and let him spend his strength to the utmost drop, whilst with my elbow close against my side and by an easy play of wrist, I diverted each murderous stroke of his point that came again and again for my heart.
When at last he had wasted in blasphemies what little breath his wild exertions had left him, I let him feel on his blade the twist that heralded my first riposte.

He caught the thrust, and retreated a step, his blasphemous tongue silenced, and his livid face bathed in perspiration.
Cruelly I toyed with him then, and with every disengagement I made him realise that he was mastered, and that if I withheld the coup de grace it was but to prolong his agony.