“It is better than I thought,” he said to Braxton Wyatt.  “The ring serves the purpose well.  We shall have some royal sport If Kaintock will but fight.”

“He will fight,” said Braxton Wyatt.

The swordsman advanced upon Paul and thrust with his shining blade.  Paul felt intuitively that he was a master of the weapon, reinforced, too, by enormous strength.  He, a boy, would have but little chance.  Yet he parried the thrust and replied with one of his own that flashed dangerously near the man’s side.  The crowd again shouted approval, but as before some were silent.  Long Jim made another effort to drag himself loose, but he could not.  The men held him.  Nevertheless, he repeated his cry:  “It’s murder!  He’s only a boy!”

The rapid interchange of thrust and parry followed, and the swordsman grew angry.  He was there not only to furnish sport, but to have it also for himself.  He did not like to be held back by one over whom he had thought victory so easy.  Suddenly he exerted his full strength and broke through Paul’s guard.  The lad felt his left shoulder and arm seared as if by a great flame, and, with a cry that he could not repress, he dropped back.

The swordsman, too, stepped back, sure now of his triumph.  The shout came from the crowd once more, but only from a part of it, and brave, faithful Long Jim closed his eyes that he might not see what would follow.

The elated swordsman held up his weapon as one would a banner.  It was a broad blade like a cutlass and it glittered in the brilliant sunlight.  The next moment there was the sound of a shot, the man uttered a cry of pain, although himself untouched, and the sword, broken in several pieces, fell to the ground.  It had been shot from his hand with a rifle bullet.

Long Jim, opening his eyes, uttered a cry of joy and Henry Ware, smoking rifle in hand, pressed his way through the crowd, which he had entered unnoticed in the excitement.

Francisco Alvarez sprang to his feet in anger.  Not for some moments did he see the figure of the one who fired the shot, and even then he did not know who it was.  But Braxton Wyatt knew Henry Ware at once, and he was resolved that he should not escape.

“Seize him! seize him!” cried the renegade.  “He is the most dangerous of them all!”

But Henry offered no resistance, as the soldiers rushed toward him, quietly surrendering his rifle.  Tom Ross, who was behind him, angrily threw back the crowd and would have fought, but Henry said:  “Give up, Tom, it’s best for the present.”

Henry’s eyes were upon his comrade who had been subjected to such treatment.  Paul stood erect, but there were stains on his shoulder, and he was pale and weak.

“Look to him,” said Henry threateningly to Francisco Alvarez who was approaching.  “It is an outrage of which the Governor General of Louisiana shall know.”

Alvarez flushed.  He felt now slight prickings of the conscience and of apprehension.  It was indeed a wicked deed that he had done, but he had no mind to be bearded by another from Kaintock.