The spectators, staring, and expecting to see one fall, saw Mr.Dunborough start and make a half turn.

Before they had time to draw any conclusion he flung his pistol a dozen paces away, and cursed his second.

'D----n you, Morris!' he cried shrilly; 'you put no powder in the pan, you hound! But come on, sir,' he continued, addressing Sir George, 'I have this left.' And rapidly changing his sword from his left hand, in which he had hitherto held it, to his right, he rushed upon his opponent with the utmost fury, as if he would bear him down by main force.
'Stay!' Sir George cried; and, instead of meeting him, avoided his first rush by stepping aside two paces.

'Stay, sir,' he repeated; 'I owe you a shot! Prime afresh.

Reload, sir, and--' But Dunborough, blind and deaf with passion, broke in on him unheeding, and as if he carried no weapon; and crying furiously, 'Guard yourself!' plunged his half-shortened sword at the lower part of Sir George's body.
The spectators held their breath and winced; the assault was so sudden, so determined, that it seemed that nothing could save Sir George from a thrust thus delivered.