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The ruffian against whoasps He was a scoundrel not fit to die, less fit to live, unworthy of a gentleh with as little coreat a desire to be quit of a dirty job as if he had been a ed with the Spaniard, his soul went to that hell which had long gaped for it To those his co as would theirs have been to hi would-be leaders he was a stu, open-ainst the solid entertain them I was now a better man than Red Gil,--that was all

The Spaniard was a onist The best blade of Lima was by no means to be despised; but Lima is a small place, and its blades can be numbered The sword that for three years had been counted the best in all the Low Countries was its better But I fought fasting and for the second tireat I wounded hi him "Am I Kirby?" I demanded, with my point at his breast

"Kirby, of course, senor," he answered with a sour s blade

I lowered my point and ed to each other, after which he sat down upon the sand and applied hi froave him no attention, but stared at me instead I was now a better man than the Spaniard

Theit very carefully, inside out, that the sand ht not injure the velvet, then drew his rapier, looked at it lovingly, h ht twice, and must be weary," he said "Will you not take breath before we engage, or will your long rest afterward suffice you?"

"I will rest aboard one on't delay"

Our blades had no sooner crossed than I knew that in this last encounter I should need every whit of th I had met my equal, and he came to it fresh and I jaded I clenched my teeth and prayed with all ht if I should fail her to what ghastly fate she ht before The sound of the surf becaht; the blue above and around seeh in the air, and had fought thus for ages I knew that he made no thrust I did not parry, no feint I could not interpret I knew that my eye was more quick to see, my brain to conceive, and h I held that knowledge of some other, and I arden, in the haunted wood, anywhere save on that barren islet I heard him swear under his breath, and in the face I had set before ht for her with all hed within ood earth beneath my feet Slowly but surely I wore him out His breath came short, the sweat stood upon his forehead, and still I deferred my attack He made the thrust of a boy of fifteen, and I smiled as I put it by