had been affronted, he was--as his chronicler never wearies of
insisting, and as you shall judge before the end of this tale is
reached--of a tigerish ruthlessness. He rode to Arwenack fully
resolved to kill his calumniator. Nothing less would satisfy him.
Arrived at that fine embattled castle of the Killigrews which commanded
the entrance to the estuary of the Fal, and from whose crenels the
country might be surveyed as far as the Lizard, fifteen miles away, he
found Peter Godolphin there before him; and because of Peter's presence
Sir Oliver was more deliberate and formal in his accusation of Sir John
than he had intended. He desired, in accusing Sir John, also to clear
himself in the eyes of Rosamund's brother, to make the latter realize
how entirely odious were the calumnies which Sir John had permitted
himself, and how basely prompted.

Sir John, however, came halfway to meet the quarrel. His rancour
against the Pirate of Penarrow--as he had come to dub Sir Oliver--
endered him almost as eager to engage as was his visitor.

They found a secluded corner of the deer-park for their business, and
there Sir John--a slim, sallow gentleman of some thirty years of age--
made an onslaught with sword and dagger upon Sir Oliver, full worthy of
the onslaught he had made earlier with his tongue. But his impetuosity
availed him less than nothing. Sir Oliver was come there with a
certain purpose, and it was his way that he never failed to carry
through a thing to which he set his hand.

In three minutes it was all over and Sir Oliver was carefully wiping
his blade, whilst Sir John lay coughing upon the turf tended by
white-faced Peter Godolphin and a scared groom who had been bidden
thither to make up the necessary tale of witnesses.