Down he went, whether hit or not I did not know. In the darkness I
heard the rush of a second man who came on so fearlessly and fast that he
was far into the passage before I met him with a fierce thrust of my
rapier. I thrilled with the zeal of old Smite-and-spare-not as, for the
first time, I felt the point of my rapier in a man's body, and drove it
home with a yell. Down he went too, with a gurgle of blood in his throat,
and Margaret, coming out of her room, stumbled over his body as she raced
after me along the passage.
The Colonel was at the stair-head before me, but there was, for the
moment, no work for him. The enemy had tumbled noisily downstairs into the
hall, and were collecting their scattered wits after their first rout. To
my regret, the raucous cursings of the sergeant showed that he had not
been killed and apparently not even hit.
"God damn ye!" he yelled. "Ten of you driven back like sheep by a raw
youth. I'll settle with ye for it. Think I picked ye out of the stews and
stink-holes of London to stand this? There isn't one of ye with the guts
of a louse. I'll take the skin off the ribs of you for this, damn ye, and
most of your pimp's flesh along with it!"
"What sort of guts was it brought yow tumblin' down so quick?" put in the
surly voice of the landlord.
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