It was too late to call a rest or ask breathing space: Mr.Rassendyll was not blind to the advantage he had won, and chivalry would have turned to folly had it allowed such indulgence.

Rupert was hard by the mantelpiece now.

The sweat was pouring from his face, and his breast seemed like to burst in the effort after breath; yet he had enough strength for his purpose.

He must have slackened his hold on his weapon, for when Rudolf's blade next struck it, it flew from his hand, twirled out of a nerveless grasp, and slid along the floor.

Rupert stood disarmed, and Rudolf motionless.
"Pick it up," said Mr.Rassendyll, never thinking there had been a trick.
"Ay, and you'll truss me while I do it." "You young fool, don't you know me yet ?" and Rudolf, lowering his blade, rested its point on the floor, while with his left hand he indicated Rupert's weapon.