"That's better, Master Richard, I'm a poor hand at understanding jargon
of this kind, but I have an idea of how to deal with thieves and
murderers."

"Be careful, Seth," Barrington whispered.

The attack was immediate and sharp, without ceremony, and determined.
Misunderstanding Barrington's attitude they were perhaps a little
careless, believing him a coward at heart. Their methods, too, were
rather those of the duelist than the fighter, and this gave Barrington
and Seth some advantage. The keen-eyed man was as ready with his sword
as with his tongue. He had been confident of saving his companions from
soiling their blades had Richard consented to cross swords with him, and
he advanced upon his enemy to bring the battle to a speedy conclusion.
He even waved his companions aside, and it was with him Barrington had
first to deal. Their blades were the first to speak, and in a moment the
Frenchman knew that he had no mean swordsman to do with.

"This would have been keen pleasure had you been a gentleman," he said.

Barrington did not answer. He was armed for real warfare, his weapon
was heavier than his opponent's and he took advantage of the fact. This
was fighting, not dueling; and he beat the weapon down, snapping the
blade near the hilt. The next moment the other Frenchman had engaged him
fiercely.

With Seth there was even greater advantage. He was a servant and a
lackey, and the punctilious gentlemen opposed to him were not inclined
to cross swords with him. They looked to see him show fear, the very
last thing in the world he was likely to do. Seth's arm was long and his