And now rose sounds evil to hear, fierce-panted oaths,
the trampling of quick, purposeful feet, and a dust wherein they
swayed and smote each other in desperate, murderous fashion; sickened
by this beastly spectacle I shrank away, then ran to catch up the
flickering lamp and with this grasped in tremulous hands, waited for
the end. They were down at last, rolling upon the floor; then I saw
the shabby, weather-beaten figure was uppermost, saw this figure reach
for and grasp the heavy cane, saw the long arm rise and fall, heard a
muffled groan, a sharp cry, a shout of agony; but the long arm rose
and fell untiring, merciless, until all sounds were hushed save for a
dull moaning and the monotonous sound of blows.
"Anthony--for God's sake--don't kill him!" I cried.
"Murder--sometimes--virtue!" he gasped. At this I set down the lamp in
a safe place and, running in, caught that merciless arm, commanding
and beseeching in turn. "Right, Peregrine--loose my arm--he's had
about--enough--besides, I'm devilish blown!"
So I loosed him and, standing back, saw beyond the door a throng of
pale, fearful faces, that parted suddenly to make way for a short,
squat man who carried a blunderbuss. Anthony saw him too, for in a
moment he was up and, thrusting hand into his bosom, drew thence a
small pistol.
"Put down that blunderbuss!" he commanded; whereupon, after a
momentary hesitation, the squat fellow stepped forward and laid it
sulkily upon the table.
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