One of the men who had been filling the bag sprang up, and, holding his gun by the barrel, rushed at me. Suddenly he stopped and cowered back, for he looked full into the dark muzzle of my revolver. I would have spared him, but the odds were too desperate. There was a sharp report, and the arm which held his weapon sunk helplessly to his side. He staggered back with a howl of pain, and then, turning away, bounded into the thicket. "You are at my mercy," I cried to the others. "Stay where you are, or I shall fire." An oath was the only answer, and then two of the men rushed at me, whilst another, turning away to escape, was seized by young Heggs, who had been leaning, panting, against a tree. The desperate struggle which followed I could never describe in detail. One of my assailants I should certainly have shot through the heart, _but that in the sudden shock of recognising him_ my hand swerved and the bullet only grazed his cheek. Backwards and forwards, amongst the bushes and on the ground, we struggled and fought. But for my Devonshire training in boxing and wrestling, I must have been overpowered at once, for the men who had attacked me were fighting like wild beasts for their liberty--biting, kicking, and dealing out sledge-hammer blows, any one of which had it struck me would have sent me down like a log. Heggs could render me no assistance, for, wearied with his long struggle, he was overmatched himself, and in desperate straits. Suddenly there came the sound of voices, and feet clambering over the low stone wall. With a giant effort the taller of the two men with whom I had been struggling flung me backwards amongst the bushes, and bounded away, leaping the wall and scudding away across the park. But in my fall I never relaxed my grasp upon the other man, and together we rolled over and over in a fierce embrace, his teeth almost meeting in my hand, which held him firmly by the throat.