rapier flagged floorward. God had given me my second.

I bounded at him, not straight, but somewhat to his left. He recovered,
but, anticipating a straight rush, thrust clean out on the expected line
of my leap. His blade ran through between my coat and waistcoat, and the
guard thumped sore on my ribs. Then he was mine.

I struck hard on heart and belt and knocked the wind out of his body. He
sucked for breath like a drowning man. Now he could not call for help, and
I finished him off, quickly, gladly, and smilingly. His twitching fingers
fumbled at his belt as if seeking a pistol. Finding none, he made no
further attempt to defend himself, and covered his face with his arms to
keep off my blows, but I struck him with such fierce strength on his
unprotected temples that he weakened and dropped them. His ghastly,
bleeding face turned upwards, his dazed eyes pleading for the mercy he had
denied her a moment ago. It was brute appealing to brute in vain, and with
one last blow on the chin that drove his teeth together like the crack of
a pistol and nearly tore his head off his shoulders, I knocked him
senseless to the floor.

His rapier hung in the skirt of my coat, so close had I been to sure and
sudden death. I drew it out and tossed it to the floor at his side. "I
wish, madam," said I, reaching out for mother's domino, "that we could
have saved the rabbit-stew."

"Is he dead?" she whispered, with white lips, coming forward and looking
shudderingly down on him with troubled eyes.

"No such luck," said I. "He may be round in five minutes, but that's
enough, though poor little Marry-me-quick will have to be left to fend for