hoping to bring him to his senses I kept strictly on the defensive and
endeavoured to make him leave off. This conduct the Dutchman mistook for
fear, and pushed hard on me, lunging in a manner that made me look to
myself. His sword passed through my necktie; a quarter of an inch farther
in would have done my business.

I leapt to one side, and, my danger no longer admitting of my fighting on
the defensive, I lunged out and wounded him in the chest. I thought this
would have been enough for him, so I proposed we should terminate our
engagement.

"I'm not dead yet," said he; "I want to kill you."

This was his watchword; and, as he leapt on me in a paroxysm of rage,
more like a madman than a sensible being, I hit him four times. At the
fourth wound he stepped back, and, saying he had had enough, begged me to
leave him.

I went off as fast as I could, and was very glad to see from the look of
my sword that his wounds were slight. I found Boaz still up, and on
hearing what had taken place he advised me to go to Amsterdam at once,
though I assured him that the wounds were not mortal. I gave in to his
advice, and as my carriage was at the saddler's he lent me his, and I set
out, bidding my servant to come on the next day with my luggage, and to
rejoin me at the "Old Bible," in Amsterdam. I reached Amsterdam at noon
and my man arrived in the evening.

I was curious to hear if my duel had made any noise, but as my servant
had left at an early hour he had heard nothing about it. Fortunately for
me nothing whatever was known about it at Amsterdam for a week after;