So back again sped I, and with every
step this murderous desire grew until my mind held no other purpose. I
remember snatching up the bludgeon he had let fall, whirling it aloft
in both hands and striking for his bullet head, but in that instant
(and well for him) he espied his danger and, loosing the girl, stooped
and taking the blow across the broad of his back was beaten to his
knees; but, as I swung again, he sprang in beneath my lifted arms. I
felt the sickening impact of a blow and the bludgeon flew from my
hold; then he was upon me, belabouring me with both fists, but twining
my legs in his, I clung to those merciless arms, while above his
fierce snarling and the painful shock of his blows, I heard the girl
calling out to me:
"Fight him--fight! Don't cling like a woman--stand away--hit him
back--fight!"
But though spent and faint with my hurts, I clung the more
tenaciously, my face buried in his foul-smelling jacket, but at last
he wrenched one arm from my desperate embrace; there was a sudden
blinding shock that hurled me backward into the road: lying thus
helpless, my antagonist leapt to kick the life out of my defenceless
body, but I saw him reel suddenly and whirl about, grasping at an arm
that spouted blood between his hairy fingers, while he stared at the
girl crouched for another spring, the knife glittering in her hand.
"Go--go, filthy beast!" she panted. "Go, or I'll be the death o' ye!"
And speaking, she began to creep towards me.
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