“I’ve seen ’em with these eyes and heard ’em with these ears!” she replied. “I wasn’t spying on ’em neither. They were one side o’ t’ wall and me t’other.” “And you never told me!” he went on, tightening his grasp on her shoulder until the pain made her wince. “And I never would ha’ done,” she answered doggedly. “It was six o’ one and half-a-dozen o’ t’other”; and she began to sob. He pushed her away roughly and turned to Jagger, who was standing utterly crestfallen and unhinged, deprived of the power of thought and action by this unexpected development. “I could be almost glad of this,” said Inman, as he bent forward until his face approached his opponent’s; “but I’ve got to thrash you for it. Strip!” “Aye, by gen I will!” A fierce joy arose in Jagger’s heart. The sense of discomfiture and humiliation fled like the gloom of night at a clear daybreak. His coat was instantly on the ground and he was rolling up his sleeves. “But there’s one thing I’ll say to you first, chance you don’t live to hear it after, or me to tell it. I never wronged you but wi’ one kiss, and it wasn’t Nancy’s wish. She’s always walked t’ straight road, and barring that one time so have I. Now I’m ready for you!” The fight had not been in progress a minute before Polly covered her eyes with her hands and ran away screaming. They were both strong and powerful men; and if Jagger had attacked in the heat of his anger it might have gone badly with him, for Inman’s passion never suffered him to lose his self-control. Now, however, the one was no whit cooler than the other, and the result was not long in doubt. No boxer or wrestler on the moor could stand up to Jagger Drake with any hope of success. Every native for miles round knew it; but Inman was not a native, and the fact was unknown to him; at the same time the knowledge would probably have made no difference, for cowardice was not among the number of his vices. He got in a few heavy blows whilst Jagger awaited his opportunity, and the seeming ineffectiveness of his opponent perhaps threw him off his guard, for the first knock he received on the jaw sent him like a log to the ground. His white face looked ghastly in the darkness as Jagger bent over it. He was unconscious, but Jagger’s practised eye and ear told him there was no danger; and moistening his handkerchief in a near-by runnel he bathed the prostrate man’s brow until the quivering of the eyelids showed that sense was returning. A little later Inman sat up. “Pass me my coat,” he said; and Jagger handed it to him without a word. “You’re a better man than me with your fists,” he continued, as he looked up with proud defiance into the other’s set face. “You know how to hit, and where. _So do I._ I’ll hit where it’ll hurt, you bet; where it’ll hurt till hell ’ud be a picnic. I’m no saint, and I neither forget nor forgive. You needn’t wait, Mr. Drake. I’ll come down at my leisure.”