Now, Robert, light of foot and agile, danced before him like a fencing master.

The captain cut and thrust at the flitting form but always it danced away, and the heavy slashes of his cutlass cut the empty air, his dripping wounds and his vain anger making him weaker and weaker.

But he would not stop.

Losing all control of his temper he rushed continually at his opponent.
The two sailors looked once more at each other, half rose to their feet, but sat down again, and were silent.
Now the captain saw a flash of light before him, and he felt a darting pain across his brow, as the keen point of the sword passed there.

The blood ran down into his eyes, blinding him for the time.