A moment later and they were at it. For a few moments both combatants
were wary, each feeling the other out. A few passes and Hal realized that
he was no match for the more experienced Frenchman.

"I must be very careful," he told himself. "Perhaps I can wear him down a
bit, and slip over a light thrust. I certainly don't want to kill him.
And I don't want to be killed myself."

The French lieutenant was pressing him sorely now. His sword darted in
and out with dazzling rapidity, and Hal thanked his stars that he had
been fortunate enough to have had some schooling in the use of the foil.

Hal contented himself with remaining on the defensive, and not an attempt
did he make to touch the Frenchman, although the latter left several
openings, only, Hal knew, to draw him on. The lieutenant at last began to
grow impatient, and with impatience came carelessness.

He had realized, as had Hal, with the first few passes, that the lad was
not an accomplished swordsman. And the fact now that he could not
penetrate the other's guard angered him.

Suddenly he aimed a fierce thrust at Hal, and the latter only escaped
being impaled on the other's sword by a quick leap aside. Before the
Frenchman could recover his balance, Hal stepped nimbly forward
again, his sword darted out, and the lieutenant dropped his weapon
with a muttered imprecation. Hal's point had pierced his arm just
below the shoulder.

The Frenchman's seconds immediately leaped forward, and Hal stepped over