"Ca! ca!" Tavannes retorted; and he lunged and parried in his turn, but
loosely and at a distance.
After which the two moved nearer the door, their eyes glittering as they
watched one another, their knees bent, the sinews of their backs
straining for the leap. Suddenly Tavannes thrust, and leapt away, and as
his antagonist thrust in return the Count swept the blade aside with a
strong parry, and for a moment seemed to be on the point of falling on
Tignonville with the poniard. But Tignonville retired his right foot
nimbly, which brought them front to front again. And the younger man
laughed.
"Try again, M. le Comte!" he said. And, with the word, he dashed in
himself quick as light; for a second the blades ground on one another,
the daggers hovered, the two suffused faces glared into one another; then
the pair disengaged again.
The blood trickled from a scratch on Count Hannibal's neck; half an inch
to the right and the point had found his throat. And Tignonville,
elated, laughed anew, and swaying from side to side on his hips, watched
with growing confidence for a second chance. Lithe as one of the
leopards Charles kept at the Louvre, he stooped lower and lower, and more
and more with each moment took the attitude of the assailant, watching
for an opening; while Count Hannibal, his face dark and his eyes
vigilant, stood increasingly on the defence.
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