pity, I think. "Or that fat pig will kill you!"

My antagonist did not join in the laugh this time. Indeed it
struck me that his eye wandered and that he was not so ready to
enter the ring as his mates were to form it. But before I could
try his mettle, a hand was laid on my shoulder. A man appearing
from I do not know where--from the dark fringe of the group, I
suppose--pushed me aside, roughly, but not discourteously.

"Leave this to me!" he said, coolly stepping before me. "Do not
dirty your hands with the knave, master. I am pining for work
and the job will just suit me! I will fit him for the worms
before the nuns above can say an AVE!"

I looked at the newcomer. He was a stout fellow; not over tall,
nor over big; swarthy, with prominent features. The plume of his
bonnet was broken, but he wore it in a rakish fashion; and
altogether he swaggered with so dare-devil an air, clinking his
spurs and swinging out his long sword recklessly, that it was no
wonder three or four of the nearest fellows gave back a foot.

"Come on!" he cried, boisterously, forming a ring by the simple
process of sweeping his blade from side to side, while he made
the dagger in his left hand flash round his head. "Who is for
the game? Who will strike a blow for the little Admiral? Will
you come one, two, three at once; or all together? Anyway, come
on, you--" And he closed his challenge with a volley of frightful
oaths, directed at the group opposite.

"It is no quarrel of yours," said the big man, sulkily; making no