Disregarding Sir Giles’s summons to surrender, the young man hurried on till he reached the middle of the bowling-green, where, finding flight impossible, as there was no apparent outlet at the further end of the garden, while it was certain that the tipstaves would pluck him from the wall with their hooks if he attempted to clamber over it, he turned, and stood upon his defence.

Willing to have the credit of disarming him unaided, and confident in his own superior strength and skill, Sir Giles signed to his myrmidons to stand back, while he alone advanced towards the young man.  A turn in his strong wrist would, he imagined, suffice to accomplish his purpose.  But he found out his error the moment he engaged with his opponent.  In dexterity and force the latter was fully his match, while in nimbleness of body Jocelyn surpassed him.  The deadly glances thrown at him by the young man showed that the animosity of the latter would only be satisfied with blood.  Changing his purpose, therefore, Sir Giles, in place of attempting to cross his antagonist’s sword, rapidly disengaged his point, and delivered a stoccata, or in modern terms of fence, a thrust in carte, over the arm, which was instantly parried.  For some minutes the conflict continued without material success on either side.  Holding his rapier short, with the point towards his adversary’s face, Jocelyn retreated a few paces at first, but then, charging in turn, speedily won back his ground.  Stoccatas, imbroccatas, drittas, mandrittas, and riversas were exchanged between them in a manner that delighted the myrmidons, most of whom were amateurs of sword-play.  Infuriated by the unexpected resistance he encountered, Sir Giles, at length, resolved to terminate the fight; and, finding his antagonist constantly upon some sure ward, endeavoured to reach him with a half incartata; but instantly shifting his body with marvellous dexterity, Jocelyn struck down the other’s blade, and replied with a straight thrust, which must infallibly have taken effect, if his rapier had not been beaten from his grasp by Clement Lanyere at the very moment it touched his adversary’s breast.  At the same time the young man’s arms were grasped from behind by two of the myrmidons, and he lay at his enemy’s disposal.

Sir Giles, however, sheathed his rapier, saying, with a grim smile, “that he did not mean to deprive himself of the satisfaction of seeing his foe stand in the pillory, and submit to the sworn torturer’s knife;” adding, “it was somewhat strange that one who could guard his body so well, should keep such indifferent watch over his tongue.”