Sercomhe fell back a step, white with rage, then darting forward, struck straight at the front of his adversary. Alister avoided the blow, but soon found himself a mere child at such play with the Englishman. He had not again touched Sercombe, and was himself bleeding fast, when Ian came up running. "Damn you! come on!" cried Sercombe when he saw him; "I can do the precious pair of you!" "Stop!" cried Ian, laying hold of his brother from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, wheeling him round, and taking his place. "Give over, Alister," he went on. "You can't do it, and I won't see you punished when it is he that deserves it. Go and sit there, and look on." "YOU can't do it, Ian!" returned Alister. "It is my business. One blow in will serve. He jumps about like a goat that I can't hit him!" "You are blind with blood!" said Ian, in a tone that gave Sercombe expectation of too easy a victory. "Sit down there, I tell you!" "Mind, I don't give in!" said Alister, but turning went to the bank at the roadside. "If he speak once again to Annie, I swear I will make him repent it!" Sercombe laughed insultingly. "Mr. Sercombe," said Ian, "had we not better put off our bout till to-morrow? You have fought already!" "Damn you for a coward, come on!" "Would you not like to take your breath for a moment?" "I have all I am likely to need." "It is only fair," persisted Ian, "to warn you that you will not find my knowledge on the level of my brother's!" "Shut up," said Sercombe savagely, "and come on." For a few rounds Ian seemed to Alister to be giving Sercombe time to recover his wind; to Sercombe he seemed to be saving his own. He stood to defend, and did not attempt to put in a blow. "Mr. Sercombe," he said at length, "you cannot serve me as you did my brother." "I see that well enough. Come on!" "Will you give your word to leave Annie of the shop alone?" Sercombe answered with a scornful imprecation. "I warn you again, I am no novice in this business!" said Ian. Sercombe struck out, but did not reach his antagonist. The fight lasted but a moment longer. As his adversary drew back from a failed blow, Alister saw Ian's eyes flash, and his left arm shoot out, as it seemed, to twice its length. Sercombe neither reeled nor staggered but fell supine, and lay motionless. The brothers were by his side in a moment. "I struck too hard!" said Ian. "Who can think about that in a fight!" returned Alister. "I could have helped it well enough, and a better man would. Something shot through me--I hope it wasn't hatred; I am sure it was anger--and the man went down! What if the devil struck the blow!" "Nonsense, Ian!" said Alister, as they raised Sercombe to carry him to the cottage. "It was pure indignation, and nothing to blame in it!" "I wish I could be sure of that!" They had not gone far before he began to come to himself. "What are you about?" he said feebly but angrily. "Set me down."