I had not yet disengaged my weapon to ward off the thrust.

The lance's point was within three feet of my breast, when a sharp crack was heard from behind; the lancer threw out his arms with a spasmodic jerk; his long spear was whirled into the air, and he fell back in his saddle, dead.
"Well done, Jack! fire and scissors! who showed yer that trick?
whooray! whoop!" and I heard the voice of Lincoln, in a sort of Indian yell, rising high above the din.
At this moment a guerillo, mounted upon a powerful black mustang, came galloping down.

This man, unlike most of his comrades, was armed with the sabre, which he evidently wielded with great dexterity.

He came dashing on, his white teeth set in a fierce smile.
"Ha! Monsieur le Capitaine," shouted he, as he came near, "still alive?
I thought I had finished you on Lobos; not too late yet!" I recognised the deserter, Dubrosc! "Villain!" I ejaculated, too full of rage to utter another word.
We met at full speedy but with my unmanageable horse I could only ward off his blow as he swept past me.

We wheeled again, and galloped towards each other--both of us impelled by hatred; but my horse again shied, frightened by the gleaming sabre of my antagonist.