With parted lips and wide eyes, the girl on the couch watched each fresh lunge. A dozen times it seemed as though Carstares must be run through, but each time, by some miraculous means, he regained his opposition, and the Duke's blade met steel.
Once, indeed, thrusting in quarte, Tracy's point, aimed too high, flashed above the other's guard and ripped the cambric shirt at the sleeve. My lord retired his foot nimbly, parried, and riposted with a straight thrust, wrist held high, before Tracy could recover his opposition. The blades clashed as forte met foible, and my lord lunged straight at his opponent's breast.
Diana shut her eyes, expecting every moment to hear the dull thud of Tracy's body as it should fall to the ground. It did not come, but instead there sounded a confused stamping, and scraping of blades, and she looked again to find the Duke disengaging over my lord's supple wrist and being parried with the utmost ease and dexterity.
Carstares knew that he would not be able to last long, however. His shoulder, fretted by the long ride, was aching intolerably, and his wrist seemed to have lost some of its cunning. He was conscious of a singing in his head which he tried, in vain, to ignore. But his eyes glowed and sparkled with the light of battle and the primitive lust to kill.
The Duke was fencing with almost superhuman skill, moving heavily and deliberately, seemingly tireless.
Carstares, on the other hand, was as swift and light as a panther, grace in every turn of his slim body.
He feinted suddenly inside the arm, deceiving the parade of tierce. His Grace fell back a pace, parrying in quarte, and as John with a quick twist changed to quarte also and the blades crossed, Tracy lunged forward the length of his arm, and a deep red splash stained the whiteness of my lord's sleeve at the shoulder.
Diana gave a choked cry, knowing it to be the old wound, and the Duke's blade came to rest upon the ground.
"You are-satisfied?" he asked coolly, but panting a little.
My lord reeled slightly, controlled himself and brushed his left hand across his eyes.
"On guard!" was all he replied, ignoring a pleading murmur from the girl.
Tracy shrugged, meeting Carstares' blade with his, and the fight went on.
Tracy's eyes were almost shut, it appeared to Diana, his chin thrust forward, his teeth gripping the thin lower lip.
To her horror she saw that Carstares was breathing in gasps, and that his face was ashen in hue. It was torture to her to sit impotent, but she held herself in readiness to fly to his rescue should the need arise. Suddenly my lord feinted on both sides of the arm and ripped open the Duke's sleeve, causing a steady trickle of blood to drip down on to the floor.