swift blade, with its deadly thrust, those opposed to him fell
back as one after another dropped dead.

"Down with him! down with him!" the voice shouted; "are ye men thus
to give way before a single blade?"

"And are you a man," Hector shouted back, "to set on others to
fight when you dare not fight yourself? Whoever you are, you are
a coward!"

With a fierce oath the man pushed his way through those in front
of him and drew his sword. He threw back his cloak to obtain the
full use of his sword arm, and the rich gold braiding of his doublet
confirmed the opinion Hector had already formed as to his identity.

"That is better, my lord duke; it is at least more honourable to
fight in your own quarrels than to employ a band of assassins to
do your work."

With a roar of fury Beaufort rushed upon him. He was a good swordsman,
and personally brave, but his rage neutralized his skill, and after
parrying two or three of his lunges Hector repeated the thrust with
which he had that morning disabled de Vipont, and ran his assailant
through the shoulder. He fell back with a curse.

"Kill him! kill him!" he shouted. But at that moment there was
a cry, "The watch! the watch!" Four of the fellows caught up the
wounded man and carried him off, some of the others skirmishing
with the watch to hinder their advance.