The vane of Halfman's attitude towards the captive had veered
strongly in the past half-hour. He had been ready to treat him well,
for such was Brilliana's pleasure; he was willing to make friends and
taste the agreeables of the magnanimous victor. But the conquered man
had gained no ground that morning in the heart of one of his
conquerors. He ate little, which Halfman pitied; he drank little,
which Halfman despised; and it was with a much-augmented disdain that
he beheld Evander dash his solitary cup with water.
"Craftily qualified, curse him," he thought; "the fellow's a damned
Cassio, and will be fumbling with his right hand and his left in a
twinkle."
In this he was disappointed; Evander's draught wrought no havoc in
his speech or demeanor; Halfman was more disappointed that the
prisoner took so coldly his laudations of his lady.
"The Roundpoll is so mad to be mastered by a woman that he has not
enough gentility in his thin wits to spur him to a compliment."
His hostile thoughts brewed in his heated brain-pan till their fumes
fevered him. As he led the way by stair and corridor, his mood for
quarrel grew the keener that he knew his choler could find no hope of
ventage with a prisoner committed to his care. And even as he thought
this, chance seemed to furnish him with some occasion for
satisfaction. They were passing by the open door of a room which had
long been used as a place of arms at Harby, and its walls were hung
with weapons of the time and weapons of an earlier generation.
Halfman had passed much time there with the brisker fellows of the
garrison, breaking them in to feats of weapon-play, and he smiled at
the memory and the magnitude of his own dexterity. He paused for a
moment at the threshold and looked round at Evander.
"Here," he said, with a smile that was half a leer and an intonation
that was little less than a sneer--"here is a spot that will scarce
have enough attraction for your worship to merit your worship's
stay."
Evander, who had been following his guide almost mechanically,
enveloped in his own gray reflections, took surprised note of his
companion's changed bearing. Up to now he had been civil enough, even
if his civility had not been of a quality greatly to Evander's
liking, yet now his blustering good-humor gave place to something
akin to deliberate offence. But he might be mistaken, and it was not
for a prisoner to snatch at straws of quarrel. Therefore he
protested, courteously:
"Why should you think that a soldier takes no interest in a soldier's
tools?"
Halfman gave a shrug to his shoulders that might or might not be
intended to annoy.
"Your worship is too raw a soldier to know much of these same tickers
and tappers. Let us rather to the library for volumes of divinity."
This time the intention to affront was so patent, so patent, too,
that Halfman's temper was getting the better of whatever discretion
he possessed, that Evander's face hardened, and yet for his own
reasons he still spoke mildly enough:
"There is no need to call me worship, for I can claim no such title.
But I think I know something of these trinkets, and with your leave
will examine them."
He passed by Halfman as he spoke and entered the room, where he
immediately busied himself in the examination of some of the weapons
displayed there, and apparently ignoring Halfman's existence. Halfman
watched him with a scowl for a moment and then followed him into the
room.
"Your honor," he said--"since you will not be called worship--your
honor really has a use for these toys of gentlefolk?"
Evander had taken a handsome Italian rapier from its case against the
wall, and, after glancing at its blade, was weighing and testing the
weapon in the air. As he gave Halfman no answer, the latter took up
the talk again, provocatively:
"I cannot deny that your honor showed fight briskly enough yester
evening, but then it seemed little less than fight or die, and even a
rat, if you corner him, will snap for dear life. Moreover, you were
well ambushed, and there was a gentle lady present who would not see
a rat butchered unnecessarily."
Evander, still weighing the fine Italian blade, turned to Halfman and
addressed him with an exasperating composure.
"Friend," he said, "I have told you that I am not unacquainted with
arms. When I am a free man I enforce belief in my word. As it is--"
He left his sentence uncompleted, and with a contemptuous shrug of
his shoulders proceeded on his journey round the room, still carrying
the Italian rapier in his hand. Under his tan Halfman's face blazed
and his eyes glittered, but he spoke with a forced calm and a feigned
civility:
"Say you so much? Why, I believe your honor, surely. Yet, as they
say, seeing is believing, and if you are in the vein for a gentle and
joyous passage with buttoned arms, I that am here to entertain your
honor would not for the world's width gainsay you."
Evander eyed him quietly. "Are you ready at fence?" he inquired. "I
shall be pleased to take a lesson from you."
Halfman's heart warmed at his words. "The coney creeps towards the
gin," he thought, exultantly; then he answered, aloud:
"Why, if you have a stomach for it you shall not be crossed. Here be
two buttoned rapiers, true twins--length, weight, workmanship. I will
beleather them in a twink. I promise you I would not hurt your
honor."
"You are very good," Evander answered, gravely. Halfman was already
busy tying two large pads of leather the size of small oranges onto
the buttoned blades. While he was at work Evander occupied himself
with the contents of the room until Halfman, having finished his job,
advanced towards him with the weapons extended. Suddenly he paused.
"Stop!" he said. "Let us make a wager on our game. I always play with
more heart so. Here is my stake."
He began to fumble at his doublet, and presently produced from an
inner pocket a great thumb-ring with a ruby in it.
"I gained that," he said, "at the sacking of a Spanish town. 'Tis
worth a pope's ransom. Set what you please against it."
Evander lifted the ring from the table where Halfman placed it and
took it to the window to look at it closely. Presently he laid it on
the table again.
"It is a goodly ring," he observed. "The setting is old and curious,
and the stone, though it has a slight flaw in it, as you have been
doubtless told before now, is worth more than any poor possessions I
have about my person. Wherefore I would rather we contended for
love."
Halfman shook his head. He was a thought dashed by Evander's
discovery of the blemish in the stone, and he carried off his
discomfiture by bravado.
"Nay, nay," he answered; "there is my stake. Set what you please
against it, were it no more than a silver groat. I do not ask to be
paid well for my lesson."
Evander said nothing, but drew his purse from his pocket and laid it
on the table. Through the meshes Halfman could see the gleam of a few
pieces of gold, and the gleam cheered him, as it always did. He was
ever greedy of gold, and thought the death of Crassus not unkingly.
"Choose your blade," he said. Evander, with a quick glance at the two
weapons, selected the one nearest to him, flung his hat onto a chair,
stripped off his doublet, and quietly waited for his adversary.
Halfman did not keep him long. He flung his hat and doublet on the
floor and advanced.
"Are you ready?" he asked. Evander saluted in silence, and in another
moment the antagonists engaged and the mock duello began. Halfman
expected that it would be short, but it proved much shorter than he
expected. He was far too good a swordsman not to know when he had
encountered a better. The thing had not happened to him very often;
it happened very flagrantly now. In less than five minutes Evander
had placed the muffled button of his blade three times on Halfman's
person--once upon either breast, and the third time fair on the
forehead, just between the eyes. The last blow was so surely
delivered that had it been given with greater force it might have
knocked the receiver senseless. As it was, however, it was given with
such deliberate delicacy that, though Halfman's head hummed for the
moment and his eyes saw stars, he rallied quickly enough to stare at
Evander where he stood with lowered point and to tender him a
salutation of honest admiration.
"Great Jove of glory!" he gasped; "who was it that ran liquid steel
into your spare body?"
Evander smiled at the new change in his chameleon companion.
"I learned a little fencing when I was in Paris," he admitted. "I
fear I was over-inclined for the pastime."
"A little fencing!" Halfman ejaculated. "A little fencing! Why, man,
that botte between the eyes would have done for me, even if you had
not spitted both my lungs first. No one can ever say of you that you
held your sword like a dancer. Give me your hand--by God! I must grip
your hand."
"Sir," said Evander, as the pair clasped hands with the hearty clasp
of true combatants, "you overpraise me; yet for your friendly
praises I have a favor to ask of you."
"Name it and it is done," Halfman asseverated, with an oath, "were it
to pluck a purple hair for you from the beard of the Grand Cham
himself."
"'Tis no such matter," Evander answered. "I do but entreat you of
your courtesy to take back your ring, for which in very truth I have
no use."
Halfman protested a little for form's sake, then gave way, glad
enough to pouch his jewel again.
"You are a gentleman," he declared. "Come, let us taste the air in
the gardens."