Del Ferice's sharp rapier entered his wrist and tore a long wound nearly to the elbow.
Giovanni said nothing, but his sword dropped from his hand and he turned upon his father, white with rage.

The blood streamed down his sleeve, and his surgeon came running towards him.
The old man had understood at a glance the foul play that had been practised, and going forward laid his hand upon the arm of Del Ferice's second.
"Why did you stop them, sir?
And where was your sword ?" he said in great anger.

Del Ferice was leaning upon his friend; a greenish pallor had overspread his face, but there was a smile under his colourless moustache.
"My principal was touched," said Casalverde, pointing to a tiny scratch upon Del Ferice's neck, from which a single drop of blood was slowly oozing.
"Then why did you not prevent your principal from thrusting after you cried the halt ?" asked Saracinesca, severely.

"You have singularly misunderstood your duties, sir, and when these gentlemen are satisfied, you will be answerable to me." Casalverde was silent.
"I protest myself wholly satisfied," said Ugo, with a disagreeable smile, as he glanced to where the surgeon was binding up Giovanni's arm.
"Sir," said old Saracinesca, fiercely addressing the second, "I am not here to bandy words with your principal.

He may express himself satisfied through you, if he pleases.