to let him know that he
has not a poor cripple to deal with."

Tom Bowles could scarcely believe his ears. Amaze swallowed up for
the moment every other sentiment. Mechanically he loosened his hold of
Jessie, who fled off like a bird released. But evidently she thought
of her new friend's danger more than her own escape; for instead of
sheltering herself in her father's cottage, she ran towards a group
of labourers who, near at hand, had stopped loitering before the
public-house, and returned with those allies towards the spot in which
she had left the two men. She was very popular with the villagers, who,
strong in the sense of numbers, overcame their awe of Tom Bowles, and
arrived at the place half running, half striding, in time, they hoped,
to interpose between his terrible arm and the bones of the unoffending
stranger.

Meanwhile Bowles, having recovered his first astonishment, and scarcely
noticing Jessie's escape, still left his right arm extended towards the
place she had vacated, and with a quick back-stroke of the left levelled
at Kenelm's face, growled contemptuously, "Thou'lt find one hand enough
for thee."

But quick as was his aim, Kenelm caught the lifted arm just above the
elbow, causing the blow to waste itself on air, and with a simultaneous
advance of his right knee and foot dexterously tripped up his bulky
antagonist, and laid him sprawling on his back. The movement was
so sudden, and the stun it occasioned so utter, morally as well as
physically, that a minute or more elapsed before Tom Bowles picked
himself up. And he then stood another minute glowering at his
antagonist, with a vague sentiment of awe almost like a superstitious
panic. For it is noticeable that, however fierce and fearless a man or
even a wild beast may be, yet if either has hitherto been only familiar
with victory and triumph, never yet having met with a foe that could
cope with its force, the first effect of a defeat, especially from
a despised adversary, unhinges and half paralyzes the whole nervous
system. But as fighting Tom gradually recovered to the consciousness of
his own strength, and the recollection that it had been only foiled by
the skilful trick of a wrestler, and not the hand-to-hand might of a
pugilist, the panic vanished, and Tom Bowles was himself again. "Oh,
that's your sort, is it? We don't fight with our heels hereabouts, like
Cornishers and donkeys: we fight with our fists, youngster; and since
you _will