[The Poor Plutocrats by Maurus Jokai]@TWC D-Link bookThe Poor Plutocrats CHAPTER XX 7/16
Fatia Negra warded every blow and countered instantly; the young officer was thrown into confusion by the superior dexterity of his opponent, and it was only a soldier's sense of honour that induced him to continue an attack which was bound to end fatally for himself: practised fencers always know at once whether they can vanquish their antagonist or not.
At the same time it was really surprising that Fatia Negra did not immediately take advantage of his strength and skill.
He seemed to be sparing his enemy, nay, he even retreated before him step by step. Meanwhile the _melee_ on the bridge had become general.
The lancers hastened to the assistance of their leader, the black masks slashed away at them with their csakanys, and soon there were very few among the combatants who had not received a lance thrust or a csakany blow.
The adventurers were forced by the lancers to the opposite end of the bridge, when the miller, who lived in the mill beside the bridge, thrust his head out of the window and shouted: "Take care, soldiers! the beams of the bridge have been sawn through!" Was this the fact? Was it the plan of the adventurers to entice the horses on to the bridge in order that it might break down beneath their weight ?--or was the miller also an accomplice and only shouted this because the soldiers were gaining the upperhand? In either case the warning cry had a magical effect upon the pursuers, for they immediately turned back in alarm and strove to reach their own end of the bridge again. And now they perceived what a two fold trap the cunning adventurers had set for them, for whilst the lancers had been fighting with the mounted robbers, a large band of footpads armed with firearms had surrounded the post wagons in their rear, disarmed the postillions and were now engaged in attempting to overturn the wagons into the ditch by the roadside. The lancers dashed towards the wagons and freed them in a moment from the hands of the mob which, on their appearance, dispersed among the brushwood by the roadside from whence they began firing. Not far from the bridge was a _csarda_, and there the cavalry and the post-wagons sought a refuge.
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