knocking
me down; while I could not with all my efforts reach him to hurt him.
'Surrender, will you?' he cried, 'you bloodhound!'

I wounded him slightly in the knee for answer; before I could do more
his companion came back, and the two set upon me, slashing at my head so
furiously and towering above me with so great an advantage that it was
all I could do to guard it. I was soon glad to fall back against the
bank. In this sort of conflict my rapier would have been of little
use, but fortunately I had armed myself before I left Paris with a
cut-and-thrust sword for the road; and though my mastery of the weapon
was not on a par with my rapier play, I was able to fend off their cuts,
and by an occasional prick keep the horses at a distance. Still, they
swore and cut at me; and it was trying work. A little delay might enable
the other man to come to their help, or Mademoiselle, for all I knew,
might shoot me with my own pistol. I was unfeignedly glad when a lucky
parade sent the masked man's sword flying across the road. On that he
pushed his horse recklessly at me, spurring it without mercy; but the
animal, which I had several times touched, reared up instead, and threw
him at the very moment that I wounded his companion a second time in the
arm, and made him give back.

The scene was now changed. The man in the mask staggered to his feet,
and felt stupidly for a pistol. But he could not find one, and he was
in no state to use it if he had. He reeled helplessly to the bank
and leaned against it. The man I had wounded was in scarcely better
condition. He retreated before me, but in a moment, losing courage,
let drop his sword, and, wheeling round, cantered off, clinging to his
pommel. There remained only the fellow engaged with my man, and I turned
to see how they were getting on. They were standing to take breath, so
I ran towards them; but on seeing me coming, this rascal, too, whipped
round his horse and disappeared in the wood, and left us victors.

The first thing I did--and I remember it to this day with pleasure--was
to plunge my hand into my pocket, take out half of all the money I had
in the world, and press it on the man who had fought for me so stoutly.
In my joy I could have kissed him! It was not only that I had escaped
defeat by the skin of my teeth--and his good sword; but I knew, and
felt, and thrilled with the knowledge, that the fight had, in a sense,
redeemed my character. He was wounded in two places