At one time, he would spring away to a great
distance, then advance again on young Dalcastle with the
swiftness of lightning. But that young hero always stood his
ground, and repelled the attack: he never gave way, although they
fought nearly twice round the bleaching green, which you know
is not a very small one. At length they fought close up to the
mouth of the dark entry, where the fellow in black stood all this
while concealed, and then the combatant in tartans closed with
his antagonist, or pretended to do so; but, the moment they began
to grapple, he wheeled about, turning Colwan's back towards the
entry, and then cried out, 'Ah, hell has it! My friend, my friend!'
"That moment the fellow in black rushed from his cover with his
drawn rapier, and gave the brave young Dalcastle two deadly
wounds in the back, as quick as arm could thrust, both of which I
thought pierced through his body. He fell, and, rolling himself on
his back, he perceived who it was that had slain him thus foully,
and said, with a dying emphasis, which I never heard equalled,
'oh, dog of hell, it is you who has done this!'
"He articulated some more, which I could not hear for other
sounds; for, the moment that the man in black inflicted the deadly
wound, my companion called out, 'That's unfair, you rip! That's
damnable! to strike a brave fellow behind! One at a time, you
cowards!' etc.
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