usty blades, which emitted a harsh grating noise as they played
up and down, flashing in the paling evening light, each awaiting the
other's attack.

Mark, in the fear that his enemy would doubt his prowess, began the
attack; and in defending himself from his adversary's thrusts Ralph soon
showed him that he had learned the use of his thin rapier from a master
the equal of his own teacher, thus making the hot-headed youth more
cautious, and ready to turn aside the thrusts which followed when he
ceased his own.

They fenced equally well, and for a few minutes no harm was done. Then
all at once, in response to a quick thrust, a spot appeared high up
above the russet leather boot which came half-way up Mark's thigh, and
Ralph leaped back with a strange feeling of compunction attacking him
that he could not understand.

"Nothing," cried Mark angrily; "a scratch," as he pressed his teeth upon
his nether lip; and they crossed swords once more, with the wounded lad
commencing the attack with as much vigour as before. And now, forgetful
of everything but the desire to lay one another _hors de combat_, they
thrust and parried for the next minute, till Ralph uttered a faint cry,
as his adversary's sword passed through his doublet, between his right
arm and ribs, a sharp pang warning him that the blade had pierced
something more than the velvet he wore.

Mark dropped the point of his blade, for at that moment a whistle rang
out, and he looked inquiringly in the direction from which it had come,
leaving himself quite open to any treacherous attack had it been
intended.

But none was meant, Ralph standing with his left hand pressing his side,
just below the armpit, as another whistle was heard from a fresh
direction. Others followed, and the adversaries looked sharply at each
other.

"Not birds," said Ralph quickly.

"Don't look like it," said Mark bitterly, as he drew his breath with a
hissing noise, as if in pain.

"We're surrounded," cried Ralph excitedly, as they saw six or seven men
appearing from different directions, and evidently all making the spot
where the lads now stood the centre for which they aimed.

"You coward!" cried Mark bitterly--"a trap--your father's men. _En
garde_!" he shouted. "You shall pay for this!"

"My father's men?" cried Ralph angrily, as he ignored the other's
preparations for a fresh attack. "You're mad; can't you see they're
those scoundrels who came to us--Captain Purlrose and h