instant seemed to hang suspended in the air. I caught it in my left and before he recovered his footing had thrown his foil from him, sending it whizzing overboard. It took but an instant to press my point firmly against his chest, as he stood panting and disarmed. Never was man more surprised.
"Bravely done," cried Levert.
"A most foul and dishonorable trick," Achille snarled.
"Not so," Levert corrected him gravely, looking at me to observe the effect of the insult. I stood still at guard, but made no move.
"Broussard, you are angry now, and I'll take no heed of your heated words. But to-morrow you must make a gentleman's amends."
"Tush, tush," Levert interposed, "’tis the quarrel of a child. He means nothing."
Broussard said no more, but looked surly and ill pleased. I was secretly elated at the success of my coup against such a skilled swordsman, and only remarked quietly:
"Broussard, when your anger has passed I trust you will do me the honor of an apology."
Behind it all I cared little, for I felt myself his master with his chosen weapon and could afford to be generous. He came up in very manly fashion, after a time, and craved my forgiveness, but we played at foils no more.
The lookouts were beginning to watch for land, I growing more and more impatient as the end of our