The others
were silent, leaning a little forward, lips slightly apart. A new element
of uncertainty had come into the combat, and even Braxton Wyatt shared in
the excitement that had been aroused by it.
Alvarez uttered a cry of satisfaction and then stepped back. Paul stood
still while the blood came slowly from a cut across his left arm and dyed
his sleeve. He had thrown out the arm just in time to ward off a thrust at
his heart, but he received a slash in its place. The pain was considerable
but Paul scarcely felt it; his mind was too intent on the crisis, and his
head was yet clear and cool.
"Never you mind, Paul! Never you mind!" cried Long Jim. "'Twas only a
lucky sweep uv his! you'll git him yet."
Paul gave his informal second a smile of confidence, for second he was
with his encouraging tongue, even though bound and helpless otherwise.
Paul suddenly rushed in, struck swiftly, and, although the blow was
parried, he thrust again so quickly that his blade passed inside the guard
of Alvarez, pierced through his doublet, and wounded him in the side. Mad
with pain and rage Alvarez struck furiously, but Paul caught the blow so
skillfully that the Spaniard's sword broke in his hand.
Long Jim shouted with delight.
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