I saved myself only by springing back, while a shout of indignation came from Zoiloff.
"A foul stroke; I call you to witness, gentlemen, a foul and dastardly stroke," he cried, excitedly, as he rushed in and struck up my opponent's sword. "Count Benderoff has behaved splendidly, and if your sword had gone home, Lieutenant Ristich, it would have been murder. A most foul stroke."
In a moment he was the centre of a group, all as excited as himself. Ristich protested that he had not seen me draw back from the fight, that he had not felt that he was wounded, and that he was eager to continue the fight. But Zoiloff would not hear of it.
"I withdraw my man, certainly," I heard him say, and he brought matters to a dramatic conclusion. "I declare the stroke a foul one, foully dealt, and if anyone questions that, I am ready to make good my words now and here;" and he singled out Captain Dimitrieff and addressed him pointedly: "What say you, Captain?"
He looked very dangerous as he paused for an answer, and the Captain clearly had no wish for a quarrel with him.
"Of course, the fight is over," he answered, evasively.
"Exactly, and we'll leave it at that," said Zoiloff, drily, as he turned on his heel and came to me with Spernow. "I never saw a more dastardly thing. I wouldn't have believed even a Russian would have done such a thing." A speech that set me wondering.
"They won't cross Zoiloff," whispered Spernow to me as I was dressing, rapidly. "He's a demon at the business. I'm glad I brought him."
"What did he mean about 'even a Russian?'" I asked.
