to my opponent, who aimed a blow at me
which I caught when his blade was within an inch of my heart. Putting
forth my strength I strove to force his hand so that with his own blade
he might kill or wound himself, but after a desperate struggle he broke
away. Not a word was spoken by the onlookers, and no sound was heard
save only the tread of our feet as we circled and waited for a chance
to strike again.

It now occurred to me that since my adversary had proved himself the
stronger when I had tried to force his hand, my better plan would be to
tire him if possible before taking the offensive again, and to this end
I led him on, always nimbly avoiding the strokes he aimed at me instead
of spending my strength by attempting to oppose them, and this method
proved so successful that I presently had the satisfaction of observing
in my opponent evident signs of exhaustion. Realizing his impotence,
and now beside himself with anger, Van Luck suddenly rushed upon me,
when, using a trick I had learnt, I tripped him so that he fell,
dropping his knife, which, before he could recover it, I secured. By
all the rules of the game he was now at my mercy, and I called upon him
to surrender, but, with a scowl, he refused to give in. The advantage
I had gained now entitled me to stab him to death where he stood, or to
cut off his ears if I had the mind to do it, but I could not bring
myself to kill, or maim, an unarmed man. I therefore threw down both
knives at Hartog's feet, and returned once more to the fight with bare
hands. My superior agility now began to tell in my favour, and I found
I was the better boxer and wrestler of the two, so that I rained blows
upon my opponent, some of which drew blood. He then tried to clinch
with me, but I had waited for this, and when he seized me in his
powerful grip I held myself as I had been taught to do by my friend the
smuggler, so that when he tried to throw me, he himself, by his own
weight and a dexterous twist I gave him, was hurled over my head some
distance along the sand, where he fell upon the broad of his back the
breath being knocked clean out of his body. For some time he lay to all
appearance dead, and it being evident he would not be able to continue
the fight, Hartog awarded me the victory, and, later, when Van Luck
regained consciousness, he ordered him to shake hands with me, which he
did with an ill grace, though of a surety I bore him no malice.

"Peter," said Hartog to me