'Stand still,' I shouted; 'do not move as you value your life
-- he will not hurt you;' but I doubt if Alphonse heard me, being,
fortunately for himself, almost petrified with horror.
Then followed the most extraordinary display of sword, or rather
of axemanship, that I ever saw. First of all the axe went flying
round and round over the top of Alphonse's head, with an angry
whirl and such extraordinary swiftness that it looked like a
continuous band of steel, ever getting nearer and yet nearer
to that unhappy individual's skull, till at last it grazed it
as it flew. Then suddenly the motion was changed, and it seemed
to literally flow up and down his body and limbs, never more
than an eighth of an inch from them, and yet never striking them.
It was a wonderful sight to see the little man fixed there,
having apparently realized that to move would be to run the risk
of sudden death, while his black tormentor towered over him,
and wrapped him round with the quick flashes of the axe. For
a minute or more this went on, till suddenly I saw the moving
brightness travel down the side of Alphonse's face, and then
outwards and stop. As it did so a tuft of something black fell
to the ground; it was the tip of one of the little Frenchman's
curling mustachios.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91