The Black Box 25

The Black Box 25

At first there was a look of mockery, if not of pity, on his face, but

when he found how well I knew my business this soon changed to one of

crafty eagerness. He thought me worth the killing, and he meant to do

it; while I, on my part, had then a no less firm intention.

 

Thus round and round we went upon that narrow strip of shore, each

fighting for his life beneath the staring moon; while those who watched

us made no sound except to gasp when a stroke or thrust of more than

common deadliness seemed to foretell the end.

 

At times our feet were fairly covered by the swirling foam, and once I

was driven, knee-deep, back into the sea by a sudden, mighty rush that

took me unawares, and came near finishing the business. But I saved

myself by springing out of reach, and then, with an answering rush,

drove my opponent back towards the cliffs.

 

And now it was that youth began to tell. The Roundhead’s breath came

faster than it had done, and there was more of fury in his fighting,

less of tempered skill. Perceiving this, I played a luring game, and,

retreating slowly, encouraged him to press me fiercely, content to guard

myself while he attacked. His blows and thrusts came fast and furious,

and one false movement would have surely meant my death, but I contrived

to parry everything, and soon the tale began to tell upon him sorely.

His breath rushed forth in gasps, and in the end I knew that I should

kill him if the fight continued. But I had slain one man that night and

had no desire to add another to the list if I could help it. Therefore

I sprang back suddenly and cried:

 

"Hold! Let us end this business while we have the chance. You have

fought well, indeed, but I am the younger man and have no wish to kill

you. Let then each of us depart in peace while he hath both life and

honour to his credit."

 

"What’s that!" he wellnigh shrieked. "A beardless stripling such as

thou doth offer quarter to a man like me? Behold my answer to your

mockery!"

 

With that he charged upon me like a maddened bull, and, with a diving

movement, aimed a blow at me which must have brought his very hilt

against my ribs had it gone fairly home.

 

"How’s that?" he hissed as he delivered it.

 

’Twas thus--with one swift, glancing stroke I turned his sword aside and

ran him through the body. Our eyes met as I drew my blade out, and ne’er

shall I forget the look in his; ’twas one of such startled horror and

surprise as haunts me to this day.

 

He stood there swaying for a moment, staring at me like some stricken

beast, then, with a sobbing cry of "Help! I’m done for!" reeled and

fell back dead.

 

Heaven knows that when I saw him lying there a poor misshapen heap upon

the shingle I felt no glory in the deed, but rather sorrow. He had

fought manfully, and had, moreover, scorned to take advantage of my

lonely state when urged to do so.

 

But there was little time for vain regrets, for barely had he fallen ere

the other three came on with angry shouts and threatening swords.

 

"Have at him! Down with him!" they cried, and so pressed forward with a

will, albeit with some caution also.

 

I fell back slowly till I reached the cliffs, then, having those behind

me as a rear-guard, stood alert and ready, waiting for the onslaught;

nor was it long in coming. There was a pause, then, as one man, they

rushed upon me.

 

A dazzling flash of steel broke out beneath my eyes as three long

shining blades shot forward in the moonlight. With one great swinging

stroke I swept them all aside, then with a downward blow clave Harland

through from chin to chine.

 

That was good start enough for anything, and made the other two draw

back in doubtful wonder. But indeed they were fine lusty fellows, who by

the look of them had known much fighting, and so next moment they came

on again with still greater fierceness and determination.

 

For a time I held my own, parrying their deadly strokes, and checking

every artful trick for mastering me; but no man can go on against such

odds for ever, and what I had already gone through now told a woeful

tale. My breath and strength began to fail, together with that

quickness, both of hand and eye, which meant everything to me just then.

 

Suddenly my sword-arm stung with pain, and, by warm blood trickling down

beneath my sleeve, I knew that I was wounded. At that I made a forward

rush, then sprang aside and sought to gain some breath; but, perceiving

how things stood, they got between me and the cliffs and drove me slowly

back towards the sea.

 

My firm resolve now was to die fighting; take me alive, I swore they

should not. I would, at any rate, save Ferguson three of his proffered

pounds. Thus, as they came slowly on, I watched their every movement,

and, by the look of exultation on their faces, I knew that they

accounted me as vanquished, and only waited for a good safe chance

either to make me prisoner or cut me down. But just as everything

seemed hopeless, and I was meditating one last desperate effort, a loud

voice hailed us from the cliff-top, crying:

 

"What’s that? Who are you?"

 

"Help! help!" I answered, caring naught in my extremity whether I called

on friend or foe.

 

That which followed was so utterly bewildering that I scarce know how to

set it down with clearness. Fearing, doubtless, lest help might be at

hand, and bent on ending matters ere it could arrive, my adversaries

made a sudden furious rush, which forced me back, waist-deep, into the

sea. Next moment, as it seemed, a man came running from the bottom of

the cliffs with upraised sword.

 

"What now? What now?" he shouted. "Have at you for rank cowards!" and

reaching my would-be slayers, he laid on with such a right good will

that they turned and fled at headlong speed towards Charmouth.

 

Hot, breathless, and confused, I staggered from the water, and sinking

down upon a rock, sat staring at my rescuer like one bedazed.

 

He was a sturdy, well-set man, some few years older than myself, with a

fine, bold face and manner.

 

"Why, thou art wounded, friend," said he, pointing with his sword at the

blood which trickled slowly from my sleeve.

 

"Nay, ’tis but a prick," I answered.

 

"Well, we had best make sure of that," said he, and kneeling down,

pulled up my sleeve and found the wound. A small vein had been pierced,

but nothing more. Taking a kerchief from his neck, he bound it tightly

round the spot, then, rising, said:

 

"You were hard pressed, methinks."

 

"Yes, I have fought with five this night," I answered, "and have slain

three of them--two here, and one up yonder."

 

"Good, now, by my life! Most excellent!" cried he. "I dearly love a man

who wins to victory against such odds."

 

"The victory was far from being mine," I answered; "for, had you not

thus come in the nick of time, I should most surely have been lying dead

beneath the sea by now. You saved my life, sir, and I owe you much."

 

"Nay, ’twas naught," he murmured, sheathing his sword and gazing out

across the moonlit water. "Faith, I scarcely struck a blow; ’twas but a

nimbleness in coming down yon cliff-path. But to have killed three men

out of five! Ah! that was lovely; that was worth the doing. Yes, by my

life, such lusty deeds as those have made Old England what she is, and

will, methinks, make her still greater and more feared in years to

come."

 

"Well, well," said I, not wishing to dwell further on my work of death,

"and whither go you, pray?"

 

"To Lyme, to join the Duke."

 

"Ah! I also go to Lyme, though not to join the Duke; but rather to my

bed."

 

"Good, then by your leave I’ll bear you company," said he. "So, when

you are ready----"

 

"And that is now," I answered, rising.

 

He paused a moment to gaze down upon the two dead men, then off we went

together.

 

"Know you who those coward rascals were?" he asked me as we strode

along.

 

"Some of Duke Monmouth’s men," I answered.

 

He stopped and looked at me, then broke into a laugh.

 

"What now?" I asked.

 

"Why, just to think of it," said he, "that I should start my fighting

for the Duke’s cause by drawing sword against his followers! But, say,

why did these fellows thus attack you?"

 

"Because I stand in no high favour with a man named Robert Ferguson."

 

"Ah! a canting rogue. I know him well. And so you are not for the

Duke?"

 

"Nay, I am for the King," I answered boldly, having now made up my mind

on that point.

 

Again he laughed in merry fashion.

 

"Oh, what a mocking whirligig is life!" said he. "Here walk I side by

side with one with whom perchance I may cross swords in battle."

 

"Aye, like enough," I answered grimly; "but, say, why stand you for the

Duke?"

 

"Well, now, it might well be for the same reason that you join King

James; but, to tell honest truth, it is because his side doth seem to

promise most of fine adventure. I love adventure; I was made for it;

and some day I will make my name thereby, though not with sword--with

pen."