There was a tone of desperation in his voice that made all look serious.

"Nay," said Blunt; "I will fight thee no more, Myles Falworth; thou hast
had enough."

"By heavens!" cried Myles, grinding his teeth, "thou shalt fight me,
thou coward! Thou hast brought this fight upon us, and either thou or I
get our quittance here. Let go, Gascoyne!" he cried, shaking loose his
friend's hold; "I tell thee he shall fight me!"

From that moment Blunt began to lose his head. No doubt he had not
thought of such a serious fight as this when he had given his challenge,
and there was a savage bull-dog tenacity about Myles that could not but
have had a somewhat demoralizing effect upon him.

A few blows were given and taken, and then Myles's friends gave a shout.
Blunt drew back, and placed his hand to his shoulder. When he drew
it away again it was stained with red, and another red stain grew and
spread rapidly down the sleeve of his jacket. He stared at his hand for
a moment with a half-dazed look, and then glanced quickly to right and
left.

"I will fight no more," said he, sullenly.

"Then yield thee!" cried Myles, exultantly.

The triumphant shouts of the Knights of the Rose stung Blunt like a
lash, and the battle began again. Perhaps some of the older lads were of
a mind to interfere at this point, certainly some looked very serious,