In the troubled state of Ireland, with internal discord, challenge, and attack, he had more than once fought, and with success; but that was in the rough-and-tumble of life's chances, as it were, with no deliberate plan to fight according to the rules.

Many times, of course, in the process of his training, he had fought as men fight in duels, but with this difference--that now he was permitted to disable or kill his foe.
It was clear that one or the other would not leave this ground--this verdant, beautiful piece of mother earth--exactly as he entered it.

He would leave it wounded, incapable, or dead.

Indeed, both might leave it wounded, and the chances of success were with the older man, Mallow, whose experience would give him an advantage.
Physically, there was not a vast deal to choose between the two men.
Mallow was lank and tall, nervously self-contained, finely concentrated, and vigorous.

Dyck was broad of shoulder, well set up, muscular, and with a steadier eye than that of his foe.