"Tom--O Tom--there's summat in 'ere wi' us--hurted bad I be--there's
summat in 'ere as 'ave cut my 'ead open, Tom. O Tom, come down an'
'elp a pal--"
"What are ye yelpin' over now--and be cursed!" panted the man Tom from
the ladder. "Th' gal's got money, I tell ye, an' 'er's a 'andsome tit
into the bargain, so it's up wi' this 'ere trap--"
"O Tom, summat 'it me--come on down! There's summat or some one 'ere
wi' us--come down an' see--"
"'Ow can us see wi'out a light?"
"Well, I got my tinder box."
I heard the man Tom stumble down the ladder, heard the sound of flint
and steel, saw their two evil heads outlined against the glow of the
tinder as they blew and, leaping upon them, I smote with my heavy
riding-whip again and yet again.
And now in the black horror of this ruined barn was pandemonium, a
wild uproar of shouts and cries, the sound of vicious blows, the shock
of groaning bodies.
If they were two, they fought a mad creature who, careless of defence,
unconscious of his own hurts, sought only to maim and rend; whether
reeling in desperate grapple or rolling half-smothered beneath my
assailants, I fought as a wild beast might, utterly regardless of
myself, with fingers that wrenched and tore, fists that smote
untiring, feet that kicked and trampled, head that drove and butted--I
was indeed a living weapon, as senseless to pain and as
merciless--intent only on destruction.
All suddenly was silence, a blessed quiet, save for the hoarse pant of
my own breathing.
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