"Nay, Varney," replied Tressilian, "what make you here? Are you come

to triumph over the innocence you have destroyed, as the vulture or

carrion-crow comes to batten on the lamb whose eyes it has first plucked

out? Or are you come to encounter the merited vengeance of an honest

man? Draw, dog, and defend thyself!"

Tressilian drew his sword as he spoke, but Varney only laid his hand

on the hilt of his own, as he replied, "Thou art mad, Tressilian. I own

appearances are against me; but by every oath a priest can make or a man

can swear, Mistress Amy Robsart hath had no injury from me. And in truth

I were somewhat loath to hurt you in this cause--thou knowest I can

fight."

"I have heard thee say so, Varney," replied Tressilian; "but now,

methinks, I would fain have some better evidence than thine own word."

"That shall not be lacking, if blade and hilt be but true to me,"

answered Varney; and drawing his sword with the right hand, he threw his

cloak around his left, and attacked Tressilian with a vigour which,

for a moment, seemed to give him the advantage of the combat. But this

advantage lasted not long. Tressilian added to a spirit determined on

revenge a hand and eye admirably well adapted to the use of the rapier;

so that Varney, finding himself hard pressed in his turn, endeavoured

to avail himself of his superior strength by closing with his adversary.

For this purpose, he hazarded the receiving one of Tressilian's passes

in his cloak, wrapped as it was around his arm, and ere his adversary

could, extricate his rapier thus entangled, he closed with him,

shortening his own sword at the same time, with the purpose of

dispatching him. But Tressilian was on his guard, and unsheathing his

poniard, parried with the blade of that weapon the home-thrust which

would otherwise have finished the combat, and, in the struggle which

followed, displayed so much address, as might have confirmed, the

opinion that he drew his origin from Cornwall whose natives are such

masters in the art of wrestling, as, were the games of antiquity

revived, might enable them to challenge all Europe to the ring. Varney,

in his ill-advised attempt, received a fall so sudden and violent that

his sword flew several paces from his hand and ere he could recover his

feet, that of his antagonist was; pointed to his throat.

"Give me the instant means of relieving the victim of thy treachery,"

said Tressilian, "or take the last look of your Creator's blessed sun!"




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