Percy wore a smug smirk as he drove Beaufort back. "Bilge-sucking Frenchie!" he swore, suddenly laughing that inane, familiar laugh of his...only slightly more gutter-rat than previous times.

In a rather suave move, Percy spun a bit on his heels and managed to get beside his French adversary, kicking a leg out and then backwards quickly to trip the man. As he really didn't fancy running him through, not really.