, and found to be of the same length.
There was no difficulty in choosing the ground, as there was an
open space in the centre of the little wood, and the sun had not
risen high enough to overtop the trees. As, therefore, the glade
was in shade, there was no advantage, in point of light, to either
combatant.

Lord Sackville had the reputation of being a good fencer, but in
point of physique there was no comparison between the combatants.
Sackville was a tall and powerfully-built man, but dissipation and
good living had rendered his muscles flabby and sapped his
strength, although he was still in what should have been his prime.
Fergus, on the other hand, had not a superfluous ounce of flesh.
Constant exercise had hardened every muscle. He was a picture of
health and activity.

The general viewed him with an expression of vindictive animosity;
while his face, on the other hand, wore an expression of perfect
indifference. The uniform coats were removed, and the dropping of a
handkerchief gave the signal for them to commence.

Lord Sackville at once lunged furiously. The thrust was parried,
and the next moment his sword was sent flying through the air. His
second did not move to recover it.

"Why do you not bring it here?" Sackville exclaimed, in a tone of
the deepest passion.

"Because, my lord," his second said coldly, "as you have been
disarmed, the duel necessarily terminates; unless your antagonist
is willing that the sword shall be restored to you."

"I shall be obliged if you will give it him, Major Buck," Fergus
said quietly. "A little accident of this sort may occur
occasionally, even to a noted swordsman, when fighting with a boy."

The general was purple with passion, when he received the sword
from his second.

"Mind this time," he said between his teeth as, after a preliminary
feint or two, he again lunged.

Again the sword was wrenched from his hand, with a force that
elicited an exclamation of pain from him.

"Pray, give the general his sword again, Major Buck," Fergus said.

"You hold your rapier too tightly, General Sackville. You need a
little more freedom of play, and less impetuosity. I don't want to
hurt you seriously, but your blood is altogether too hot, and next
time I will bleed you on the sword arm."

Steadying himself with a great effort, Sackville played cautiously
for a time; but after parrying several of his thrusts, without the
slightest difficulty, Fergus ran him through the