Tom rushed forward to recover his club at any hazard, but I laid about me, right and left, with all my might, so that the bat whizzed through the air. To have come within the circle of the flying bat would have insured him a broken head, and he paused a moment. My uncle stepped forward, and taking him by the shoulder, drew him back from such dangerous proximity to my weapon. "One of you will certainly be killed!" gasped my uncle. "Stop, Ernest!" "I am ready to stop when he is," I replied, panting with my exertions. "What have you done with my horse, you villain?" roared Tom. "I'll tell you when you have cooled off," I answered. "I want you to understand now that I am not to be trifled with." "I'll bring you to your senses, yet," said Tom, with an awful scowl, as he turned and rushed out of the room again, followed by my uncle. It was plain that he had gone after another weapon, and perhaps this time he would bring something more dangerous than a stick from the wood-pile. Fighting was not at all to my taste, and I was not quite willing to risk my prowess against such an insane assailant. I realized that he would just as lief kill me as not, and I might not again be as fortunate as I had been during the first onslaught. Discretion was certainly the better part of valor in such an encounter, for there were no laurels to be won in the battle; and I determined to make my escape before the return of my savage foe. I did not mean to come back, for my mission was in the great world until I had developed the mystery of my own wrongs. I approached the closet, after I had opened the window, for the purpose of obtaining the will and the money I had concealed there. I was on the point of opening the closet, when I heard a step on the stairs, and then my uncle appeared at the door. "Ernest, if you have any regard for me, or any gratitude for what I have done for you, don't incense him any more," said he, in pleading tones. "What shall I do?--let him kill me?" I replied. "What have you done with the horse and chaise?" "They are in Welch's Lane." "Don't resist Thomas any more." "I shall resist him to the death, if he don't let me alone," I answered, firmly. "I didn't begin it." "Yes, you did, Ernest. You carried the girl off, and he is acting for her mother." "The girl has been abused. If she hadn't been, she wouldn't have jumped overboard." "There! Thomas is coming!" exclaimed he, greatly alarmed at the prospect of a renewal of hostilities. "Tell him where the girl is, for my sake, if not for your own." "I will not," I replied, as I heard Tom's step on the stairs.