The two men closed in a deadly struggle, and Jack, the lion roused within him, got the mastery, though his adversary fought in a more scientific way, as one who had been well accustomed to such conflicts. Bryda stood by the old thorn tree too terrified to move, only entreating Jack to stop for her sake, only crying aloud in her despair to Mr Bayfield to stop. But the fight grew ever fiercer and fiercer, and at last, with one mighty blow of his huge arm, Jack had his adversary at his feet, his knee on his chest, his hand at his throat. So tremendous was the force with which the young giant had felled the Squire that his fall made a heavy thud on the hard road. Just at this moment a storm-cloud came sweeping over the hillside, and hail fell in a thick, sharp shower. 'Swear you will leave her, swear you will not touch her again,' Jack gasped out, for he was breathless with rage and exertion. But there was no answer. Suddenly Jack relaxed his hold, and rising, stood staring down at the inanimate form before him, on which the hail beat with blinding fury. Bryda drew near, and clasping her hands, said,-- 'You have killed him, Jack Henderson, you have killed him! Oh, God have mercy on you and on me!' Jack stood motionless as one in a dream. Blood was streaming down his cheeks from a cut in the temple, and his face was almost as wan and livid as that which was turned up to the darkened sky, on which the pitiless hailstones danced and leaped, unheeded and unfelt. Thus they stood, when steps were heard plodding down the hill, and old Silas, the shepherd from Bishop's Farm, came up. 'What's to do?' he said. 'Miss Biddy, my dear, what's to do?' 'Get a doctor,' she gasped. 'They have had a fight, and--he is--hurt.' 'Dead,' Silas said, looking down at Mr Bayfield as he had looked down on the lamb a year ago, 'dead. His skull is cracked, I'll warrant.' 'Oh, go for a doctor, Jack. Run quick to Bristol and send a doctor. Oh, Jack! Jack!' Her voice seemed to wake Jack from his stupor. 'Yes,' he said, 'I'll send a doctor. Yes. Good-bye, Bryda, good-bye, and--' Jack covered his face with his hands, and sobs shook his large frame. 'He angered me past bearing, Bryda. I did it for your sake,' he sobbed. 'Say one word to me before I go.' 'Oh, Jack! Jack! What can I say except God forgive you?' She laid her little hand tenderly on Jack's fingers, through which the tears were trickling, and repeated, 'Yes, God forgive you and help _me_.' * * * * * It fell out that Jack Henderson, running headlong down the hill, met a village doctor, in his high gig, returning from a long and weary round of country visits. Jack hailed him, and the doctor drew up his tired nag. 'There's a man lying on the hill half a mile up the road. Go to him quick--it's life or death.' 'Why, you are covered with blood, young man,' the doctor said, as Jack flew past on his downward way to Bristol. 'I say,' he shouted, 'come back. I may want help.'