Then he released his hold upon the young man, politely assisted him to rise to his feet, and making a profound bow before him, gravely remarked: “I think I have satisfied all requirements. I have shown your friends, if not you, how I should look standing on my head, while I have given you a quotation which may prove useful to you in the future.” It had all been done so quickly and so resolutely that there had scarcely been time for the others to interfere had they been so disposed; hardly time, even, for Mapleson himself to resist, he had been so completely taken by surprise, while every one was amazed at the wonderful strength and dexterity that Geoffrey displayed. But once more on his feet, Mapleson flew into a white heat of rage. All his hot Southern blood was up, and he dashed at Geoffrey with blazing eyes, crimson face, and with fists clenched and uplifted as if to smite him to the floor. But Geoffrey caught him by the wrists, with a grip that rendered him instantly powerless, while he said, with the utmost good nature: “Mr. Mapleson, you are no match for me; I measured you well before I touched you; my muscles and sinews are like iron from long gymnastic training, so I advise you not to waste your strength. I am sorry to have offended you, but this affair was none of my seeking, and you tried my patience altogether too far. I have simply acted in self-defense.” But Mapleson had lost his head entirely, and blustered and swore in the most passionate manner, while his comrades were so struck with admiration for Geoffrey and his masterly self-control in the face of such excessive provocation, that not one of them was disposed to meddle in the quarrel. “Let go! you cold-blooded Yankee!” Everet Mapleson cried, hoarsely, through his tightly locked teeth. “I will release you, Mapleson, but you must not try the same thing again,” Geoffrey returned, with quiet firmness, and instantly loosed his hold upon the young man’s wrists. With another violent oath, quick as a flash, and before any one suspected his intention, Mapleson whipped out a pistol from an inner pocket, cocked and pointed it at Geoffrey. What might have been the result no one can tell, if a young man named Abbott had not dashed forward, and thrown up his arm. The next instant he had wrenched the weapon from his grasp. “Are you mad, Mapleson?” he cried; “we shall have the whole faculty down upon us if you trifle with such a plaything, and then there will be a fine row.” The other sophomores now gathered around and tried to pacify their enraged leader, but he only grew the more furious and vowed that he would yet have the Yankee’s heart’s blood for his insolence in laying hands upon him. “No, no, Mape, you drove him to it,” interposed one; “you can’t blame him, and you would have done the same had you been in his place.” “Who ever heard of a ‘fresh’ getting the upper hand of a half-dozen ‘sophs’ before?” he retorted, angrily. “You’re a set of cowards, every one of you.”