The oars came together with a solid thwack. Not a word was said as they drew back for a second sally. This was to be a silent battle.
The man tried a straight on, sword-like thrust. It became evident at once that he meant to plunge her into the icy water. What more?
Swinging her oar in a circle, she struck his weapon such a blow as all but knocked it from his hands.
Before he could regain his grip, she sent a flashing blow that barely missed his head, coming down with a thud upon his back.
Turning upon her a face livid with anger, he executed a crafty thrust to the right, leading her weapon astray. Before she could recover, her boat tipped. She fell upon one knee. At the same instant there came a crashing blow that all but downed her for a count of ten. The man smiled.
“I’m done!” her aching heart seemed to whisper.
But what was this? There came the sound of heavy feet dropping upon the bottom of the boat. This was followed by a wolf-like growl. Then came the panting breath of terrific struggle.
Florence regained full consciousness in time to see her adversary caught in the grip of a powerful man, and to witness the feat of strength that lifted him clear of the boat and sent him sprawling into black waters a full ten feet away.
At that her deliverer turned and smiled, showing all his fine white teeth.
“Bihari!” she exclaimed. “Bihari the gypsy!”
“Yes, Miss Florence.” The man bowed. “Here we meet again. And this one—” He glanced at the man struggling in the water. “What of him?”
“It’s not far to shore. Perhaps he can swim that far.”
“Ah, yes, I am sure of that.” Bihari’s grin broadened. “Come then, we will forget him. You will come aboard our fine little schooner. My good Mama will look you over and see if you are hurt.”
To her surprise Florence found the flag-bedecked boat close at hand. The villainous intruder had been outgeneraled by his own tactics. He had come upon Florence silently, unobserved. In this same manner Bihari, witnessing the struggle, had stolen upon him. Not, however, until he had won the battle had Bihari discovered he was defending a long-time friend.
“Florence!” his buxom wife cried as the girl climbed aboard. “It is indeed good to see you! And where is my Jeanne?”