As for Captain van Adrienssen, the veins of his neck were so swollen with passion that his wig curled up at the edge and stood out straight behind him in the absurdest fashion.
"The boot--the boot!" he kept exclaiming, stamping with each lunge.
"Take that for the boot, sir!" He aimed a furious thrust in tierce at Captain Runacles' breast.
"And that for the glove, sir!" retorted his adversary, parrying and running his blade on and through the exposed arm by the elbow.
The arm dropped.

Captain van Adrienssen scowled, looked round, and was caught in his companion's arms as he fell.
"And now, sir, let me express my regret," began Captain Jerry, advancing and stooping over him.
"I'll have you yet!" retorted this implacable old gentleman; and with that fainted away.

He awoke to find his arm bandaged and the little group still standing around him.
"Peter," he said, sitting up with an effort; "get my coat." "But, Captain, you cannot put it on," remonstrated Peter, a squarely built man with eyes of a porcelain blue.
"Then how in the world do you suppose that I'm to get past the sentries ?" "You'll be carried." "And let every man of them know that this gentleman and I have been fighting in his Majesty's park! Tut, tut; you'll have them both arrested in a jiffy.

Give me my coat!" "You cannot get your arm into it." "My worthy Peter, you're my excellent lieutenant and a fair seaman; but I begin to doubt if you'll ever make a captain.

You've no resource.