"Strike for their heads!" commanded Satan Laczi, as, with sabers drawn,
the ex-robbers rushed upon the bewildered demons, who had at last met
their match.
When De Fervlans heard the firing in the neighborhood of the trench, he
believed it to come from the muskets of his own men, and quickly sounded
an attack. The demons, who had been feigning to retreat, now turned and
met their pursuers, and a hand-to-hand conflict began.
Vavel also had heard the firing behind him, and believed himself
surrounded by the enemy. He beckoned to his trumpeter, to whom he wished
to give orders to sound a retreat, but the man's horse unfortunately
stumbled, and threw his rider to the earth. Three demons, at once sprang
to capture the fallen trumpeter; but Vavel, who knew how necessary the
man was to him, hastened to his assistance.
De Fervlans in amazement watched this unequal encounter. A masterly
conflict arouses admiration even in an enemy; and Vavel certainly
proved himself a master in the art of fighting.
He fought in cold blood; he was not in the least excited. He made no
unnecessary thrusts, but wounded his three adversaries in the hand, the
elbow, the forearm, whereby he rendered them incapable of further
combat.
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