Crying "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon," Gib made a great lunge at
me with his fist. But the sword of Gideon missed its aim, and skinned
its knuckles on the stone wall. I saw now to my great comfort that the
man was beside himself with fury, and was swinging his arms wildly like
a flail. Three or four times I avoided his rushes, noting with
satisfaction that one of the countrymen had got hold of the shrieking
Isobel. Then my chance came, for as he lunged I struck from the side
with all my force on his jaw. I am left-handed, and the blow was
unlocked for. He staggered back a step, and I deftly tripped him up, so
that he fell with a crash on the hard floor.
In a second I was on the top of him, shouting to the others to lend me
a hand. This they did at last, and so mazed was he with the fall, being
a mighty heavy man, that he scarcely resisted. "If you want a quiet
night," I cried, "we must silence this mountebank." With three leathern
belts, one my own and two borrowed, we made fast his feet and arms, I
stuffed a kerchief into his mouth, and bound his jaws with another, but
not so tight as to hinder his breathing. Then we rolled him into a
corner where he lay peacefully making the sound of a milch cow chewing
her cud.
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