Clementina

Wogan had just time to notice that the lackey's coat was open at his

breast. He stood up, leaned over the table, caught the lapels one in

each hand as the fellow rushed at him, and lifting the coat up off his

shoulders violently jammed it backwards down his arms as though he would

strip him of it. The lackey stood with his arms pinioned at his elbows

for a second. During that second Wogan drew his hunting knife from his

belt and drove it with a terrible strength into the man's chest.

"There's a New Year's gift for your mistress, the Countess of Berg,"

cried Wogan; and the lackey swung round with the force of the blow and

then hopped twice in a horrible fashion with his feet together across

the room as though returning to his place, and fell upon the floor,

where he lay twisting.

The polite man was nursing his elbow in a corner; there were three

others left,--the man with the cheery voice, who had no weapon but a

knobbed stick, and the companions on the settle. These two had swords

and had drawn them. They leaped over the lackey's body and rushed at

Wogan one a little in advance of the other. Wogan tilted the heavy table

and flung it over to make a barricade in front of him. It fell with a

crash, and the lower rim struck upon the instep of the leader and pinned

his foot. His companion drew back; he himself uttered a cry and wrenched

at his foot. Wogan with his left hand drew his sword from the scabbard,

and with the same movement passed it through his opponent's body. The

man stood swaying, pinned there by his foot and held erect. Then he made

one desperate lunge, fell forward across the barricade, and hung there.

Wogan parried the lunge; the sword fell from the man's hand and

clattered onto the floor within the barricade. Wogan stamped upon it

with his heel and snapped the blade. He had still two opponents; and as

they advanced again he suddenly sprung onto the edge of the table, gave

one sweeping cut in a circle with his sword, and darted across the room.

The two men gave ground; Wogan passed between them. Before they could

strike at his back he was facing them again. He had no longer his

barricade, but on the other hand his shoulders were against the door.

The swordsman crossed blades with him, and at the first pass Wogan

realised with dismay that his enemy was a swordsman in knowledge as well

as in the possession of the weapon. He had a fencer's suppleness of

wrist and balance of body; he pressed Wogan hard and without flurry. The

blade of his sword made glittering rings about Wogan's, and the point

struck at his breast like an adder.