Each, armed with a cavalry sabre selected of
equal weight, about three pounds, and equal length, three feet, placed
himself at his own line, the point of his weapon on the ground,
awaiting the signal. Both were so calm that, in spite of the cold,
their muscles quivered no more than if they had been made of iron.
Goddet, the four seconds, and the two soldiers felt an involuntary
admiration.
"They are a proud pair!"
The exclamation came from Potel.
Just as the signal was given, Max caught sight of Fario's sinister
face looking at them through the hole which the Knights of Idleness
had made for the pigeons in the roof of the church. Those eyes, which
sent forth streams of fire, hatred, and revenge, dazzled Max for a
moment. The colonel went straight to his adversary, and put himself on
guard in a way that gained him an advantage. Experts in the art of
killing, know that, of two antagonists, the ablest takes the "inside
of the pavement,"--to use an expression which gives the reader a
tangible idea of the effect of a good guard. That pose, which is in
some degree observant, marks so plainly a duellist of the first rank
that a feeling of inferiority came into Max's soul, and produced the
same disarray of powers which demoralizes a gambler when, in presence
of a master or a lucky hand, he loses his self-possession and plays
less well than usual.
"Ah! the lascar!" thought Max, "he's an expert; I'm lost!"
He attempted a "moulinet," and twirled his sabre with the dexterity of
a single-stick.
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