Alleyne, on the
other hand, must trust for his defence to his quick eye and
active foot--for his sword, though keen as a whetstone could
make it, was of a light and graceful build with a narrow, sloping
pommel and a tapering steel.
Tranter well knew his advantage and lost no time in putting it to
use. As his opponent walked towards him he suddenly bounded
forward and sent in a whistling cut which would have severed the
other in twain had he not sprung lightly back from it. So close
was it that the point ripped a gash in the jutting edge of his
linen cyclas. Quick as a panther, Alleyne sprang in with a
thrust, but Tranter, who was as active as he was strong, had
already recovered himself and turned it aside with a movement of
his heavy blade. Again he whizzed in a blow which made the
spectators hold their breath, and again Alleyne very quickly and
swiftly slipped from under it, and sent back two lightning
thrusts which the other could scarce parry. So close were they
to each other that Alleyne had no time to spring back from the
next cut, which beat down his sword and grazed his forehead,
sending the blood streaming into his eyes and down his cheeks.
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