show of drawing his sword, but rather drawing back himself.

"All quarrels are my quarrels! and no quarrels are your
quarrels. That is about the truth, I fancy!" was the smart
retort; which our champion rendered more emphatic by a playful
lunge that caused the big bully to skip again.

There was a loud laugh at this, even among the enemy's backers.
"Bah, the great pig!" ejaculated the girl above. "Spit him!"
and she spat down on the whilom Hector--who made no great figure
now.

"Shall I bring you a slice of him, my dear?" asked my rakehelly
friend, looking up and making his sword play round the shrinking
wretch. "Just a tit-bit, my love?" he added persuasively. "A
mouthful of white liver and caper sauce?"

"Not for me, the beast!" the girl cried, amid the laughter of
the yard.

"Not a bit? If I warrant him tender? Ladies' meat?"

"Bah! no!" and she stolidly spat down again.

"Do you hear? The lady has no taste for you," the tormentor
cried. "Pig of a Gascon!" And deftly sheathing his dagger, he
seized the big coward by the ear, and turning him round, gave him
a heavy kick which sent him spinning over a bucket, and down
against the wall. There the bully remained, swearing and rubbing
himself by turns; while the victor cried boastfully, "Enough of