nd steer--M'Diarmid of Trinity, glory of
the Cambridge gymnasium, and "5" in the University eight. They were not
shouting like the rest, but hitting out straight and remorselessly; and
before those two strong Promachi, townsman and navvy, peeler and
special, went down like blades of corn. Close at their shoulder I
distinguished Lovell, his clear blue eyes lightening savagely; and stout
Tom Lynton, a deeper flush on his honest face, hewing away with all the
unscientific strength of his nervous arm.

But my two guards, very Abdiels in their duty, never let me go; on the
contrary, one tightened his gripe on my throat suffocatingly, while the
other, though I remained perfectly quiescent, kept giving me gentle
hints to keep the peace with the end of his staff. I was getting sick
and dizzy, when something passed my cheek like the wind of a ball; there
was a dull, crashing sound close at my ear; the grasp on my neck relaxed
all at once; I felt something across my feet, and saw a dark blue mass,
topped by the ruin of a shiny hat, lying there quite still; an arm was
round my waist like the coil of a cable, and I heard Guy's voice
laughing loud,

"My dear Frank," he said, as he dragged me away toward the inn, "the
centre of a row, as usual. _Que, diable, allait il faire dans cette
bagarre?_"

I hardly heard him, for my senses were still confused; but in thirty
seconds I was under the archway of "The George." As the heroines of the
Radcliffe romances say, "I turned to thank my preserver, but he was
gone."

When I recovered my breath, I went up to a balcony on the first floor
and looked out. The tide of the affray was surging gradually back into
the wide open space before the inn, and very shortly this was filled
with a chaos of furious faces and struggling arms. The University were
evidently recoiling, pressed back by the sheer weight of their
opponents; but soon came a re-enforcement of grooms and stable-men,
lightweights, active and wiry; and these, with their hunting-crops and
heavy cutting-whips used remorselessly--like Caesar's legionaries, they
struck only at the face--once more re-established the balance of the
battle.

Suddenly the _melee_ seemed to converge to one point--the mid-eddy, as
it were, of the whirlpool; then came a lull, almost a hush; and then
fifty strong arms, indiscriminately of town and gownsmen, were locked to
keep the ground, while a storm of voices shouted for "A ring!"

In that impromptu arena