After her, laughing and cursing in a breath, came a heavy-booted Spaniard.

Almost he was upon her, when suddenly Mr.Blood got in his way.

The doctor had taken a sword from a dead man's side some little time before and armed himself with it against an emergency.
As the Spaniard checked in anger and surprise, he caught in the dusk the livid gleam of that sword which Mr.Blood had quickly unsheathed.
"Ah, perro ingles!" he shouted, and flung forward to his death.
"It's hoping I am ye're in a fit state to meet your Maker," said Mr.
Blood, and ran him through the body.

He did the thing skilfully: with the combined skill of swordsman and surgeon.

The man sank in a hideous heap without so much as a groan.
Mr.Blood swung to the girl, who leaned panting and sobbing against a wall.