young Blackett. His old schoolfellow was haranguing the men,
gesticulating violently, and pointing excitedly towards the large
shed. Matthew had in reality just heard of the fray, and had at once
run up to do what he could to stop it. But George Fairburn did not
know this. "The knave!" he exclaimed, beside himself with anger, "he's
the very ringleader of the party! He's kept himself till now in the
background. But he shall pay for his pains!"

Flinging back the bars, George dashed forth upon the ale-drinking
group his little band following at his heels. With a shout they
swooped down upon the foe, and in an instant a score of heads were
broken, the luckless owners flung in all directions around the cask.
One of the prostrate ones held the spigot in his hand, and the
remainder of the liquor bubbled itself merrily to the ground.

So utterly unprepared were the fellows for the onset, and so mauled
were they in the very first rush, that a general alarm was raised. In
the darkening they imagined themselves surrounded by a strong
reinforcement of the Fairburn party, and at once there was a wild
stampede from the premises. Men and hobbledehoys stumbled off in hot
haste, pursued by the victorious handful under George.

Not that George himself gave any heed to all this. At the very first
he had dashed to the spot where Matthew Blackett was excitedly
shouting to the rioters.

"Coward!" cried Fairburn, "to set on your scoundrelly fellows--"

"Set on the fellows!" Matthew began in amazement, but he got no
farther.