And at the very outset I was disarmed of the best weapon that was
left to me. "Mind, Gerard, no kicking!" said Lord Rufton in my
ear. I had only a pair of thin dancing slippers, and yet the man
was fat, and a few well-directed kicks might have left me the
victor. But there is an etiquette just as there is in fencing,
and I refrained. I looked at this Englishman and I wondered how
I should attack him. His ears were large and prominent. Could I
seize them I might drag him to the ground. I rushed in, but I
was betrayed by this flabby glove, and twice I lost my hold. He
struck me, but I cared little for his blows, and again I seized
him by the ear. He fell, and I rolled upon him and thumped his
head upon the ground.
How they cheered and laughed, these gallant Englishmen, and how
they clapped me on the back!
"Even money on the Frenchman," cried Lord Sadler.
"He fights foul," cried my enemy, rubbing his crimson ears. "He
savaged me on the ground."
"You must take your chance of that," said Lord Rufton, coldly.
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