He was a good swordsman, and good-naturedly determined to treat the lad easily, and to play with him for a time before scoring his first hit.
He soon, however, found that the game was not to be conducted on the lines that he had laid down.

Oswald, after waiting for a minute or two, finding his opponent did not take the offensive, did so himself; and for a time Marsden had all his work to do, to defend himself.

Several times, indeed, it was with the greatest difficulty that he guarded his head.

The activity of his assailant almost bewildered him, as he continually shifted his position, and with cat-like springs leapt in and dealt a blow, leaping back again before his opponent's arm had time to fall.
Finding at last that, quick as he might be, Marsden's blade always met his own, Oswald relaxed his efforts, as he was growing fatigued; and as he did so Marsden took the offensive, pressing him backwards, foot by foot.

Every time, however, that he found himself approaching a barrier, or other obstacle, that would prevent his further retreat, Oswald, with a couple of springs, managed to shift his ground.