fend herself,Dame Moncler Genevrier.
“Ivan Ogareff!” again cried Nadia, knowing well that so detested a name would soon bring her help.
“Ah,Colton Parayko Tröjor! Be silent,Steven Stamkos Tröjor!” hissed out the traitor between his clenched teeth.
“Ivan Ogareff!” exclaimed a third time the brave young girl, in a voice to which hate had added ten-fold strength.
Mad with fury, Ogareff, drawing a dagger from his belt, again rushed at Nadia and compelled her to retreat into a corner of the room. Her last hope appeared gone, when the villain, suddenly lifted by an irresistible force, was dashed to the ground.
“Michael,Ralph Lauren Barn!” cried Nadia,Brian Gionta Tröjor.
It was Michael Strogoff. Michael had heard Nadia’s call. Guided by her voice, he had just in time reached Ivan Ogareff’s room,Barn Moncler Vest, and entered by the open door.
“Fear nothing, Nadia,” said he, placing himself between her and Ogareff.
“Ah!” cried the girl,Vladislav Namestnikov Tröjor, “take care, brother! The traitor is armed! He can see!”
Ogareff rose, and, thinking he had an immeasurable advantage over the blind man leaped upon him. But with one hand, the blind man grasped the arm of his enemy, seized his weapon, and hurled him again to the ground.
Pale with rage and shame, Ogareff remembered that he wore a sword. He drew it and returned a second time to the charge. A blind man! Ogareff had only to deal with a blind man! He was more than a match for him!
Nadia, terrified at the danger which threatened her companion ran to the door calling for help!
“Close the door, Nadia!” said Michael. “Call no one, and leave me alone! The Czar’s courier has nothing to fear to-day from this villain! Let him come on, if he dares! I am ready for him.”
In the mean time, Ogareff, gathering himself together like a tiger about to spring,Menn Moncler Himalaya, uttered not a word. The noise of his footsteps, his very breathing, he endeavored to conceal from the ear of the blind man. His object was to strike before his opponent was aware of his approach, to strike him with a deadly blow.
Nadia,Doug Gilmour Tröjor, terrified and at the same time confident, watched this terrible scene with involuntary admiration. Michael’s calm bearing seemed to have inspired her. Michael’s sole weapon was his Siberian knife. He did not see his adversary armed with a sword, it is true; but Heaven’s support seemed to be afforded him. How, almost without stirring, did he always face the point of the sword?
Ivan Ogareff watched his strange adversary with visible anxiety. His superhuman calm had an effect upon him. In vain,Andrew Shaw Tröjor, appealing to his reason,PJS Herreklær Lær Parkas, did he tell himself that in so unequal a combat all the advantages were on his side. The immobility of the blind man froze him. He had settled on the place where he would strike his victim. He had fixed upon it! What, then, hindered him from putting an end to his blind antagonist?
At last, with a spring he drove his sword full at Michael’s breast. An imperceptible movement of the blind man’s knife turned aside the blow. Michael had not been touched,Jeff Zatkoff Tröjor, and coolly he awaited a second attack.
Cold drops stood on Ogareff’s brow. He drew back a step, then again leaped for
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