Through the whirl and clash and hot breath of battle he had been amazed that Kate Bonnet's father should be a man like this.
The pirate, his eyes now shrunken into his head, where they glowed like coals, his breath steaming like a volcano, and his tremendous muscles supple and quick as those of a cat, met his antagonist at every point, and with every lunge and thrust and cut forced him to guard.
Now Vince shut himself in his armour of trained defence; this bounding lion must be killed, but the death-stroke must be cunningly delivered, and until, in his hot rage, the pirate should forget his guard Vince must shield himself.
Never had the great Blackbeard met so keen a swordsman; he howled with rage to see the English captain still vigorous, agile, warding every stroke.

Blackbeard was now a wild beast of the sea: he fought to kill, for naught else, not even his own life.

With a yell he threw himself upon Captain Vince, whose sword passed quick as lightning through the brawny masses of his left shoulder.

With one quick step, the pirate pressed closer to Vince, thus holding the imprisoned blade, which stuck out behind his body, and with a tremendous blow of his right fist, in which he held the heavy brazen hilt of his sword, he dashed his enemy backward to the ground.

The fall drew the blade from the shoulder of Blackbeard, whose great right arm went up, whose sword hissed in the air and then came down upon the prostrate Vince.