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Chapter 11
Heart-high,Isay,myrapierenteredPasquini’ssideontheright,butitdidnotemerge,ontheleft,for,well-nighthroughhim,itmetarib(oh,man-killingisbutcher’swork!)withsuchawillthattheforcingoverbalancedhim,sothathefellpartbackwardandpartsidewisetotheground.Andevenashefell,anderehestruck,withjerkandwrenchIclearedmyweaponofhim.
DeGoncourtwastohim,buthewaveddeGoncourttoattendonme.NotsoswiftlyasFortinididPasquinipass.Hecoughedandspat,and,helpedbydeVillehardouin,proppedhiselbowunderhim,restedhisheadonhand,andcoughedandspatagain.
“Apleasantjourney,Pasquini,”Ilaughedtohiminmyredanger.“Prayhasten,forthegrasswhereyoulieisbecomesuddenlywetandifyoulingeryouwillcatchyourdeathofcold.”
WhenImadeimmediatelytobeginwithdeGoncourt,BohemondprotestedthatIshouldrestaspace.
“Nay,”Isaid.“Ihavenotproperlywarmedup.”AndtodeGoncourt,“Nowwillwehaveyoudanceandwheeze—Salute!”
DeGoncourt’sheartwasnotinthework.Itwaspatentthathefoughtunderthecompulsionofcommand.Hisplaywasold-fashioned,asanymiddle-agedman’sisapttobe,buthewasnotanindifferentswordsman.Hewascool,determined,dogged.
