I ain’t Guillaume Danet

…Sang came after me, frothing like a pi-dog. On clear floor I fell on guard, parrying two cuts to take his measure, and my heart leaped as I realized I’d been right in one vital hope — he couldn’t use a sabre to save himself. He was a blind, furious lasher, so I exposed my flank, took a cut on the forte, waited for his lurching recovery, and ran him through the left arm. (I ain’t Guillaume Danet, you understand, but Sang’s swordplay would have broken the troop-sergeant’s heart.)


Flashman and the Dragon, p.255, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.



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