The sight of his quietly watchful eyes, his grimly smiling lips, seemed to infuse courage into her anew.
"I have the table, monsieur," she told him.

"I can bring it no nearer to the wall." He understood that this was not because her courage or her strength might be exhausted, but because he now occupied the spot where he had bidden her place it.

He motioned her away, and when she had moved he darted suddenly and swiftly aside and caught the table, his sword still fast in his two first fingers, which he had locked over the quillons.
He had pushed its massive weight halfway across the door before Fortunio grasped the situation.

Instantly the captain sought to take advantage of it, thinking to catch Garnache unawares.

But no sooner did he show his nose inside the doorpost than Garnache's sword flashed before his eyes, driving him back with a bloody furrow in his cheek.
"Have a care, Monsieur le Capitaine," Garnache mocked him.