As this exertion of grand stability lasted and outlasted, shouts arose and rang alike from friend and foe, from north, and west, and east; even I could not help clapping my feeble hands. But the trial was nearly over. The assailant’s strength was ebbing; I could hear him gasp for breath under the fearful pressure. By great address he had won that hold, and made sure of victory from it, it had never failed before; but to use a Devonshire word, the farmer was too "stuggy." Now, the latter watched his time, and his motive power waxed as the other’s waned. At length he lifted him bodily off his legs, and cast him flat on his back. A flat and perfectly level cast, as ever pancake crackled at. Thunders of applause broke forth, and scarcely could I keep quiet. With amazement the farmer espied me as he was bowing on all sides, and amid the tumult and uproar that shook the canvass like a lark’s wing, he ran across the ring full speed. Then he stopped short, remembering his laboured and unpresentable plight, and he would have blushed, if he had not been as red as fire already. None of such nonsense for me. I called him by name, took his hand, and with all my heart congratulated. "But, farmer, I want you immediately, on a matter of life and death." Beany Dawe and the children came, but I only stopped to kiss Sally, and motioned them all away. "If you remember your promise to me, get ready for a journey in a moment, and run all the way to my lodgings. We must leave London, at two o’clock, to save my Uncle’s life." Mr. Huxtable looked astounded, and his understanding, unlike his legs, for the moment was carried away. Meanwhile up came Sally again, caught hold of my hand, and silently implored for some little notice, if only of her costume, violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red. I could only kiss her again. "Oh do come, farmer Huxtable, do come at once, I entreat you; or I must go alone and helpless." "That you shan’t, my dearie, dang Jan Uxtable for a girt lout." "Please, sir, I am sent to tell you that the umpires gives it no fall, and you must play again." The man looked abased by his errand; even he knew better. In my hurry I had paid no attention to the ominous hissing and hooting around a knot of men on the benches at the end. The farmer’s face I shall never forget; as he slowly gathered the truth, it became majestic with honest indignation. A strong man’s wrath at deceit and foul play sat upon it, like a king on his throne. "For the chillers--" he stammered at last--"ony for the poor chiller’s sake--else I’d never stand it, danged if I wud, Miss Clara; it make a man feel like a rogue and a cheat himself." Then, with all the power of his mighty voice he shouted, so that every fold of the canvass shook, and every heart thrilled fearfully: