"Pile in on 'im, boys!" cried the prostrate ruffian, who had lost a
tooth and bled freely at the nose. The other two prepared to pile, when
the schoolmaster faced one of them, and kept him off. It is hard to say
how matters would have gone, had not a tornado entered the bar room in
the shape of Timotheus. How he did it, no one could tell, but, in less
than two minutes, the two standing bullies and the prostrate one were
all outside the tavern door, which was locked behind them. Peace once
more reigned in the hotel, and it was in order for Matt and the Grinstun
man to congratulate Coristine on his knock down blow. He showed no
desire for their commendation, but, with his friend, whom Timotheus
helped to pick up the chessmen, retired to his room. The Crew's brother
had disappeared before he had had a chance to thank him.
Before retiring for the night, the lawyer was determined to be upsides
with Mr. Rawdon. He asked his roomfellow if he had any writing
materials, and was at once provided with paper, envelopes, and a
fountain pen.
"I hope I'm not depriving you of these, Wilks, my dear," he said, when
the party thus addressed almost threw himself upon his neck, saying,
"Corry, my splendid, brave fellow, everything I have is at your absolute
disposal, 'supreme of heroes--bravest, noblest, best!'" for he could not
forget his Wordsworth.
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