"Are you ready?" asked Prince Marvel, for answer.

"Yes."

Then the swords clashed and sparks flew from the blades. But it was
not for long. Suddenly Nerle's sword went flying through the air and
shattered its blade against a wall of rock. He scowled at Prince
Marvel a moment, who smiled back at him. Then the boy rushed into the
cave and returned with another sword.

Scarcely had the weapons crossed again when with a sudden blow Prince
Marvel snapped Nerle's blade in two, and followed this up with a sharp
slap upon his ear with the flat of his own sword that fairly
bewildered the boy, and made him sit down on the grass to think what
had happened to him.

Then Prince Marvel's merry laugh rang far across the hills, and so
delighted was he at the astonished expression upon Nerle's face that
it was many minutes before he could control his merriment and ask his
foeman if he had had enough fight.

"I suppose I have," replied the boy, rubbing his ear tenderly. "That
blow stings most deliciously. But it is a hard thought that the son
of Baron Neggar should serve Prince Marvel!"

"Do not worry about that," said the prince; "for I assure you my rank
is so far above your own that it is no degradation for the son of
Neggar to serve me. But come, we must dispose of these thieves. What
is the proper fate for such men?"