“Villain,” answered Adrian, “you know why; you have betrayed me and mine, and I am dishonoured, and now I am going to kill you in payment.”

“I see,” said Ramiro, “the van Goorl affair again.  I can never be clear of it for half an hour even.  Well, before you begin, it may interest you to know that your worthy stepfather, after a couple of days’ fasting, is by now, I suppose, free, for the rabble have stormed the Gevangenhuis.  Truth, however, compels me to add that he is suffering badly from the plague, which your excellent mother, with a resource that does her credit, managed to communicate to him, thinking this end less disagreeable on the whole than that which the law had appointed.”

Thus spoke Ramiro, slowly and with purpose, for all the while he was so manoeuvring that the light from the lattice fell full upon his antagonist, leaving himself in the shadow, a position which experience taught him would prove of advantage in emergency.

Adrian made no answer, but lifted his sword.

“One moment, young gentleman,” went on Ramiro, drawing his own weapon and putting himself on guard; “are you in earnest?  Do you really wish to fight?”

“Yes,” answered Adrian.

“What a fool you must be,” mused Ramiro.  “Why at your age should you seek to be rid of life, seeing that you have no more chance against me than a rat in a corner against a terrier dog?  Look!” and suddenly he lunged most viciously straight at his heart.  But Adrian was watching and parried the thrust.

“Ah!” continued Ramiro, “I knew you would do that, otherwise I should not have let fly, for all the angels know I do not wish to hurt you.”  But to himself he added, “The lad is more dangerous than I thought—­my life hangs on it.  The old fault, friend, too high, too high!”

Then Adrian came at him like a tiger, and for the next thirty seconds nothing was heard in the room but the raspings of steel and the hard breathing of the two men.

At first Adrian had somewhat the better of it, for his assault was fierce, and he forced the older and cooler man to be satisfied with guarding himself.  He did more indeed, for presently thrusting over Ramiro’s guard, he wounded him slightly in the left arm.  The sting of his hurt seemed to stir Ramiro’s blood; at any rate he changed his tactics and began to attack in turn.  Now, moreover, his skill and seasoned strength came to his aid; slowly but surely Adrian was driven back before him till his retreat in the narrow confines of the room became continuous.  Suddenly, half from exhaustion and half because of a stumble, he reeled right across it, to the further wall indeed.  With a guttural sound of triumph Ramiro sprang after him to make an end of him while his guard was down, caught his foot on a joined stool which had been overset in the struggle, and fell prone to the ground.