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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Sir Nigel"

"
"It is the answer that I wished," said Nigel, "for indeed I see no
happiness in this marriage, and the other may well be the better
way. Stand aside, Edith!" He gently forced her to one side and
drew his sword.
De la Fosse cried aloud at the sight. "I have no sword. You
would not murder me?" said he, leaning back with haggard-face and
burning eyes against his chair. The bright steel shone in the
lamp-light. Edith shrank back, her hand over her face.
"Take this sword!" said Nigel, and he turned the hilt to the
cripple. "Now!" he added, as he drew his hunting knife. "Kill me
if you can, Paul de la Fosse, for as God is my help I will do as
much for you!"
The woman, half swooning and yet spellbound and fascinated, looked
on at that strange combat. For a moment the cripple stood with an
air of doubt, the sword grasped in his nerveless fingers. Then as
he saw the tiny blade in Nigel's hand the greatness of the
advantage came home to him, and a cruel smile tightened his loose
lips. Slowly, step by step he advanced, his chin sunk upon his
chest, his eyes glaring from under the thick tangle of his brows
like fires through the brushwood. Nigel waited for him, his left
hand forward, his knife down by his hip, his face grave, still and
watchful.
Nearer and nearer yet, with stealthy step, and then with a bound
and a cry of hatred and rage Paul de la Fosse had sped his blow.


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