Toutou and Hilmi Bey went for Nikka. He was bleeding from a cut in the arm, and all his men were engaged. Hugh, with King and Watty, was developing an encircling movement on the opposite end of the line. I started to go to Nikka's aid, but a man sprang at me from nowhere, and I was obliged to dodge him until I had a chance to shoot, I did not miss that time. When I looked again, Nikka and Toutou were circling each other, and Hilmi was at grips with Kara.
At first I thought the Levantine was scheming to throw the girl, but as I drew near I perceived that he had clinched with her in mortal terror of her knife. She held his own powerless by her grasp of his wrist. A mocking light gleamed in her eyes, and she shook back her loose hair and jeered at him in the Tzigane dialect. With one pudgy hand he strove to ward off her blade, but he could not control her lithe muscles. She tore her wrist free, the steel drove home through his sodden frock-coat and he collapsed with a squeal.
Kara pulled out her knife as casually as though it had been a familiar occurrence, and turned to watch Nikka's fight with Toutou. Nikka from the corner of his eye saw the two of us, plainly waiting a chance to help him, and he leaped clear of the circle of his enemy's knife long enough to snap:
I couldn't have helped him, in any case, for as redoubtable a person as Tokalji, himself, attacked me that moment. Kara did not even notice my danger. She also ignored the man she called father. Her whole attention was concentrated upon Nikka. I fired once at the Gypsy chief, and missed. That was the last cartridge in the magazine, and I attempted to lose him in the rain. But he refused to be lost, and I was making up my mind to taking his knife in my wounded arm and battering his head with my pistol-butt, when Watkins loomed in the mist and brought down his trusty crowbar on Tokalji's knife-wrist. The Gypsy yelped like a dog, and the knife clattered on the ground. Watty produced some rope from a pocket and deftly twisted the man's arms behind him. Tokalji yelped again.
"Easy," I said. "The fellow's wrist is broken."
"I'm tying 'im above the helbows, Mister Jack, sir," answered Watty. "But if it did 'urt 'im a bit I wouldn't worry, sir. I 'ave an hidea, sir, 'e was one of the scoundrels that bashed me 'ead."