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The Caxtons — Volume 13 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 14 of 25 (56%)
not; but five shots did he fire, and not in vain, without allowing me to
catch a glimpse of him. I then retreated to the outskirt of the copse,
and waited patiently by an angle which commanded two sides of the wood.
Just as the dawn began to peep, I saw my roan emerge within twenty yards
of me. I held my breath, suffered him to get a few steps from the wood,
crept on so as to intercept his retreat, and then pounce--such a bound!
My hand was on his shoulder,--prr, prr; no eel was ever more lubricate.
He slid from me like a thing immaterial, and was off over the moors with
a swiftness which might well have baffled any clodhopper,--a race whose
calves are generally absorbed in the soles of their hobnail shoes. But
the Hellenic Institute, with its classical gymnasia, had trained its
pupils in all bodily exercises; and though the Will o' the Wisp was
swift for a clodhopper, he was no match at running for any youth who has
spent his boyhood in the discipline of cricket, prisoner's bar, and
hunt-the-hare. I reached him at length, and brought him to bay.

"Stand back!" said he, panting, and taking aim with his gun: "it is
loaded."

"Yes," said I; "but though you're a brave poacher, you dare not fire at
your fellow-man. Give up the gun this instant."

My address took him by surprise; he did not fire. I struck up the
barrel, and closed on him. We grappled pretty tightly, and in the
wrestle the gun went off. The man loosened his hold. "Lord ha' mercy!
I have not hurt you?" he said falteringly.

"My good fellow,--no," said I; "and now let us throw aside gun and
bludgeon, and fight it out like Englishmen, or else let us sit down and
talk it over like friends."
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