"Draw then," he said through his teeth, and unsheathed his rapier.
Though surprised at his determination, I was not backward in meeting it.

Thrusting the letter in my bosom, I drew my sword in time to parry a rapid and fierce thrust.

I had expected easily to master Montreuil, for I had some skill at my weapon: I was deceived; I found him far more adroit than myself in the art of offence; and perhaps it would have fared ill for the hero of this narrative had Montreuil deemed it wise to direct against my life all the science he possessed.

But the moment our swords crossed, the constitutional coolness of the man, which rage or fear had for a brief time banished, returned at once, and he probably saw that it would be as dangerous to him to take away the life of his pupil as to forfeit the paper for which he fought.

He, therefore, appeared to bend all his efforts towards disarming me.