Before you are five minutes older I will spit you like a partridge though I cross the frontier for it.

You have basted me with wine! I will baste you after another fashion! On guard! On guard, and----" "_What is this ?_" The voice stayed Grio's tongue and checked his foot in the very instant of assault.

The student, watching his blade and awaiting the attack, was surprised to see his point waver and drop.

Was it a trick, he wondered?
A stratagem?
No, for a silence fell on the room, while those who held the floor hastened to efface themselves against the wall, as if they at any rate had nothing to do with the fracas.

And next moment Grio shrugged his shoulders, and with a half-stifled curse stood back.
"What is this ?" The same question in the same tone.