e. A deliverer gets
more honour by coming in at the last gasp than if he forestalled
catastrophe.--Ho, there, what's the matter?"

So saying, the wise youth rose, and leisurely trotted to the scene of
battle, where stood St. George puffing over the prostrate Dragon.

"Holloa, Ricky! is it you?" said Adrian. "What's this? Whom have we
here?--Benson, as I live!"

"Make this beast get up," Richard returned, breathing hard, and shaking
his great ash-branch.

"He seems incapable, my dear boy. What have you been up to?--Benson!
Benson!--I say, Ricky, this looks bad."

"He's shamming!" Richard clamoured like a savage. "Spy upon me, will he?
I tell you, he's shamming. He hasn't had half enough. Nothing's too bad
for a spy. Let him getup!"

"Insatiate youth! do throw away that enormous weapon."

"He has written to my father," Richard shouted. "The miserable spy! Let
him get up!"

"Ooogh? I won't!" huskily groaned Benson. "Mr. Hadrian, you're a
witness--he's my back!"--Cavernous noises took up the tale of his
maltreatment.

"I daresay you love your back better than any part of your body now,"
Adrian muttered. "Come, Benson! be a man. Mr. Richard has thrown away the
stick. Come, and get off home, and let's see the extent of the damage."

"Ooogh! he's a devil! Mr. Hadrian, sir, he's a devil!" groaned Benson,
turning half over in the road to ease his aches.

Adrian caught hold of Benson's collar and lifted him to a sitting
posture. He then had a glimpse of what his hopeful pupil's hand could do
in wrath. The wretched butler's coat was slit and welted; his hat knocked
in; his flabby spirit so broken that he started and trembled if his
pitiless executioner stirred a foot. Richard stood over him, grasping his
great stick; no dawn of mercy for Benson in any corner of his features.

Benson screwed his neck round to look up at him, and immediately gasped,
"I won't get up! I won't! He's ready to murder me again!--Mr. Hadrian! if
you stand by and see it, you're liable to the law, sir--I won't get up
while he's near." No persuasion could induce Benson to try his legs while
his executioner stood by.

Adrian took Richard aside: "You've almost killed the poor devil, Ricky.
You must be satisfied with that. Look at his face."

"The coward bobbed while I struck" said Richard. "I marked his back. He
ducked. I told him he was getting it worse."

At so civilized piece of savagery, Adrian opened his mouth wide.

"Did you really? I