If he sprang for the barrier they would thrust him back, and that was not a thing to be endured.
Francisco Alvarez, spurred on by the sting of his wound, and urged, too, by Braxton Wyatt, who was mad for the deed the moment he heard of it, had done this wicked thing.

The strain of cruelty in his nature, inherited perhaps, from far-off ancestors who had looked upon pitiless games in the arena in the Roman cities in Spain, was completely in control.
"It is better than I thought," he said to Braxton Wyatt.

"The ring serves the purpose well.

We shall have some royal sport If Kaintock will but fight." "He will fight," said Braxton Wyatt.
The swordsman advanced upon Paul and thrust with his shining blade.

Paul felt intuitively that he was a master of the weapon, reinforced, too, by enormous strength.