Gascoyne and Wilkes, accepting Myles's punishment as a thing ofcourse, were about to leave the dormitory when Myles checkedthem.
"Stop, Francis!" he cried, hoarsely. "Thinkest thou that I willstay behind to do yon dog's dirty work? No; I go with ye."A moment or two of dumb, silent amazement followed his boldwords; then Blunt cried, "Art thou mad?""Nay," answered Myles in the same hoarse voice, "I am not mad. Itell thee a better man than thou shouldst not stay me from goingan I list to go.
"I will break thy cockerel head for that speech," said Blunt,furiously. He stooped as he spoke, and picked up a heavy clogthat lay at his feet.
It was no insignificant weapon either. The shoes of those dayswere sometimes made of cloth, and had long pointed toes stuffedwith tow or wool. In muddy weather thick heavy clogs or woodensoles were strapped, like a skate, to the bottom of the foot.
That clog which Blunt had seized was perhaps eighteen or twentyinches long, two or two and a half inches thick at the heel,tapering to a point at the toe. As the older lad advanced,Gascoyne stepped between him and his victim.
"Do not harm him, Blunt," he pleaded. "Bear thou in mind hownew-come he is among us. He knoweth not our ways as yet.""Stand thou back, Gascoyne," said Blunt, harshly, as he thrusthim aside. "I will teach him our ways so that he will not soonforget them."Close to Myles's feet was another clog like that one which Bluntheld. He snatched it up, and set his back against the wall, witha white face and a heart beating heavily and tumultuously, butwith courage steeled to meet the coming encounter. There was ahard, grim look in his blue eyes that, for a moment perhaps,quelled the elder lad. He hesitated. "Tom! Wat! Ned!" he calledto the other bachelors, "come hither, and lend me a hand withthis knave.""An ye come nigh me," panted Myles, "I will brain the firstwithin reach."Then Gascoyne dodged behind the others, and, without being seen,slipped out of the room for help.
The battle that followed was quick, sharp, and short. As Bluntstrode forward, Myles struck, and struck with might and main, buthe was too excited to deliver his blow with calculation. Bluntparried it with the clog he held, and the next instant, droppinghis weapon, gripped Myles tight about the body, pinning his armsto his sides.
Myles also dropped the clog he held, and, wrenching out his rightarm with a sudden heave, struck Blunt full in the face, and thenwith another blow sent him staggering back. It all passed in aninstant; the next the three other bachelors were upon him,catching him by the body, the arms, the legs. For a moment or twothey swayed and stumbled hither and thither, and then down theyfell in a struggling heap.
Myles fought like a wild-cat, kicking, struggling, scratching;striking with elbows and fists. He caught one of the three by hiscollar, and tore his jacket open from the neck to the waist; hedrove his foot into the pit of the stomach of another, andknocked him breathless. The other lads not in the fight stoodupon the benches and the beds around, but such was the aweinspired by the prestige of the bachelors that not one of themdared to lend hand to help him, and so Myles fought his fiercebattle alone.
But four to one were odds too great, and though Myles struggledas fiercely as ever, by-and-by it was with less and lessresistance.
Blunt had picked up the clog he had dropped when he firstattacked the lad, and now stood over the struggling heap, whitewith rage, the blood running from his lip, cut and puffed whereMyles had struck him, and murder looking out from his face, ifever it looked out of the face of any mortal being.
"Hold him a little," said he, fiercely, "and I will still him foryou."Even yet it was no easy matter for the others to do his bidding,but presently he got his chance and struck a heavy, cruel blow atMyles's head. Myles only partly warded it with his arm. Hithertohe had fought in silence, now he gave a harsh cry.
"Holy Saints!" cried Edmund Wilkes. "They will kill him."Blunt struck two more blows, both of them upon the body, and thenat last they had the poor boy down, with his face upon the groundand his arms pinned to his sides, and Blunt, bracing himself forthe stroke, with a grin of rage raised a heavy clog for oneterrible blow that should finish the fight.
