Sam Figgis came forward then and said something to Stephen, and then
shrugged his shoulders and went back to his wife. He seemed to feel
that no one could interfere between the two men--it was too late for
interference. Then things happened very quickly. Peter saw that they had
all--men and women--crowded back against the benches and the wall and
were watching, very silently and with great excitement. He found it very
difficult to see, but he bent his head and peered through the legs of a
big fisherman in front of him. He was shaking all over his body. Stephen
had never before appeared so terrible to him; he had seen him when he
was very angry and when he was cross and ill-tempered, but now he was
very ominous in his quiet way, and his eyes seemed to have changed
colour. The small boy could only see the middle of the floor and pieces
of legs and skirts and trousers, but he knew by the feeling in the room
that Stephen and the little man were going to fight. Then he moved his
head round and saw between two shoulders, and he saw that the two men
were stripping to the waist. The centre of the room was cleared, and Sam
Figgis came forward to speak to Stephen again, and this time there was
more noise, and the people began to shout out loud and the men grew more
and more excited. There had often been fights in that room before, and
Peter had witnessed one or two, but there had never been this solemnity
and ceremony--every one was very grave. It did not occur to Peter that
it was odd that it should be allowed; no one thought of policemen twenty
years ago in Treliss and Sam Figgis was more of a monarch in The Bending
Mule than Queen Victoria. And now two of the famous old chairs were
placed at opposite corners, and quite silently two men, with serious
faces, as though this were the most important hour of their life, stood
behind them. Stephen and the other man, stripped to their short woollen
drawers, came into the middle of the room. Stephen had hair all over his
chest, and his arms and his neck were tremendous; and Peter as he looked
at him thought that he must be the strongest man in the world. His enemy
was smooth and shiny, but he seemed very strong, and you could see the
muscles of his arms and legs move under his skin. Some one had marked a
circle with chalk, and all the men and women, quite silent now, made a
dark line along the wall. The lamp in the middle of the room was still
swinging a little, and they had forgotten to close the window, so that
the snow, which was falling more lightly now, came in little clouds with
breaths of wind, into the room--and the bells were yet pealing and could
be heard very plainly against the silence.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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