"I've no mind to fight with you," says I, turning away.
"An excellent blade!" says he, making a pass in the air, then he tendered it to me hilt foremost and with the little bow.
"'Tis right you should know I am wearing the chain-shirt."
"No matter," quoth he, drawing, "there is your throat or your eye--come!"
So point to point we fell to it. I had been somewhat esteemed at the art once and now I matched his vicious thrusts with cunning parades, with volts and passes, pushing at him when I might, so that twice I was very near. But suddenly as he retreated before my attack, his blade darted and flashed and he called out: "One!" And now he pressed me in turn with quick thrusts and bewildering feints, and presently called out again: "Two! Three! Four!" Then I saw he was cutting the buttons from my sleeve, how and when he would; therefore I cast away my sword in petulant anger and folded my arms.
"Lord love me! Are ye done, Martin?"
"O make an end one way or t'other, I'll not be played with!"
"Verily, you were more dangers with the club!" says he, and sheathed his rapier. As for me, espying the three-legged stool, I sat me down mighty dejected and full of bitter thoughts until, feeling a touch on my bowed shoulder, I looked up and found him beside me.
"Martin," says he, "'tis true you are a fool but your folly harmeth none but yourself! And thou'rt such honest fool that I must needs love thee, which is strange, yet so it is. Look'ee, we have quarrelled and fought, very well--what's to let us from being friends again?"
"But if I doubt you, Adam?"
"Why, as to that," says he with his whimsical look, "I verily do think myself a something doubtful being at times."
Now at this, up I rose and gripped his hand right heartily; which done he brought me into the cave whiles Godby posted himself on the threshold, leaning on his musket.
"What now, Adam?" I questioned.
"Now let us divide our treasure, Martin--"
"But I bartered my share for the lives of--"
"Tush!" says he, and reaching a valise from shadowy corner he opened it and I beheld such a glory of flashing gems as nigh dazzled me with their splendour. "Look at 'em, Martin, look at 'em!" he whispered. "Here's love and hate, life and death, every good and all the sins--look at 'em!" And catching up a handful he let them fall, glittering, through his fingers. "Lord love me, Martin," he whispered, "'tis enough to turn a man's brain! Have ye counted 'em over, comrade?"