Ralph knew, too, that though they were better then than in the early days of the Wars of the Roses, they were still brutal enough, and that he would gain the applause and respect of his men by giving them the order.

But Mark Eden had not drawn his sword to begin cutting and thrusting; and instead of leaving the lad to hang till he fell, he, Ralph Darley, had, in opposition to his father's men, risked his own life to save that of his enemy--going down over a hundred feet, swinging at the end of a couple of ropes badly tied together.
"Seems very stupid," the two lads thought.
"What does he mean by coming here, and getting into such a horrible position--an idiot!" said Ralph to himself.
"How dare he, an insolent Darley, come down by a rope and save my life!" said Mark to himself.
Then there was an awkward pause, with the two lads scowling, and avoiding each other's gaze, and the men nudging one another, and winking knowingly.

Nick Garth whispering behind his hand to Ram Jennings, that the young cocks would set up their hackles directly, whip out their spurs, and there would be a fight; and, in expectation of this, the men, six in number, now spread themselves into an arc, whose chord was the edge of the cliff, thus enclosing the pair so as to check any design on the part of the enemy to make a rush and escape.
Mark, who did not feel so breathless and numb now, sat up on the grass, and resumed his old role of ignoring his enemies, putting his hands behind him, to feel for the ravens hung from his sword-belt, taking them out from their awkward position, to find that they were limp and literally crushed.

The reason for this was that when Ralph, as he swung, seized him, he had to do this from behind, clasping him round the chest, just under the arms, and then, as the rope was hauled, flinging his legs about him to help to hold, with the consequence that they formed a sort of sandwich, he and Mark being the slices of bread, and the young ravens the meat.
"Hah!" said Mark softly, as if to himself; "you two will never dig out any young lambs' eyes.

Feed the fishes instead;" and, rising to his feet, he untied his kerchief from about the dead birds' legs, and gave each a swing, sending it on its first and last flight, out from the cliff edge, away into the gulf.
"Now's your time, Master Ralph," whispered Nick, "Whip out your sword, and show him how you can fight." Ralph turned upon the man with an angry glance, and Nick shrank back into his old position with a sheepish grin, which, in conjunction with his cross eyes, did not improve his personal appearance.
Without so much as glancing at his enemies, Mark now took off his cap and smiled, for the egg he had so carefully placed in the lining was intact.
"Well done!" he said aloud.