During her declamation Eustacia held her head erect,
and spoke as roughly as she could, feeling pretty
secure from observation. But the concentration
upon her part necessary to prevent discovery, the
newness of the scene, the shine of the candles, and
the confusing effect upon her vision of the ribboned
visor which hid her features, left her absolutely
unable to perceive who were present as spectators.
On the further side of a table bearing candles she
could faintly discern faces, and that was all.
Meanwhile Jim Starks as the Valiant Soldier had come
forward, and, with a glare upon the Turk, replied—
“If, then, thou art that Turkish
Knight,
Draw out thy sword, and let
us fight!”
And fight they did; the issue of the combat being
that the Valiant Soldier was slain by a preternaturally
inadequate thrust from Eustacia, Jim, in his ardour
for genuine histrionic art, coming down like a log
upon the stone floor with force enough to dislocate
his shoulder. Then, after more words from the
Turkish Knight, rather too faintly delivered, and
statements that he’d fight Saint George and
all his crew, Saint George himself magnificently entered
with the well-known flourish—
“Here come I,
Saint George, the valiant man,
With naked sword
and spear in hand,
Who fought the dragon and brought
him to the slaughter,
And by this won fair Sabra, the
King of Egypt’s daughter;
What mortal man
would dare to stand
Before me with
my sword in hand?”
This was the lad who had first recognized Eustacia;
and when she now, as the Turk, replied with suitable
defiance, and at once began the combat, the young
fellow took especial care to use his sword as gently
as possible. Being wounded, the Knight fell upon
one knee, according to the direction. The Doctor
now entered, restored the Knight by giving him a draught
from the bottle which he carried, and the fight was
again resumed, the Turk sinking by degrees until quite
overcome—dying as hard in this venerable
drama as he is said to do at the present day.
This gradual sinking to the earth was, in fact, one
reason why Eustacia had thought that the part of the
Turkish Knight, though not the shortest, would suit
her best. A direct fall from upright to horizontal,
which was the end of the other fighting characters,
was not an elegant or decorous part for a girl.
But it was easy to die like a Turk, by a dogged decline.
Eustacia was now among the number of the slain, though
not on the floor, for she had managed to sink into
a sloping position against the clock-case, so that
her head was well elevated. The play proceeded
between Saint George, the Saracen, the Doctor, and
Father Christmas; and Eustacia, having no more to
do, for the first time found leisure to observe the
scene round, and to search for the form that had drawn
her hither.
