ey could leap from their
chairs. Cuttance ducked to evade a terrific blow which Oliver aimed at
him with his fist, and in another instant grappled with him. Tregarthen
rushed to the window in time to meet Bill, on whose forehead he planted
a blow so effectual that that worthy fell back into the arms of his
friends, who considerately let him drop to the ground, and made a united
assault on Charlie.

Had Oliver Trembath possessed his wonted vigour, he would speedily have
overcome his adversary despite his great strength, but his recent
illness had weakened him a little, so that the two were pretty equally
matched. The consequence was that, neither daring to loosen his hold in
order to strike an effective blow, each had to devote all his energies
to throw the other, in which effort they wrenched, thrust, and swung
each other so violently round the room that chairs and tables were
overturned and smashed, and poor old Hitchin had enough to do to avoid
being floored in the _melee_, and to preserve from destruction the
candle which lighted the scene of the combat.

At first Oliver had tried to free his right hand in order to strike,
but, finding this impossible, he attempted to throw the smuggler, and,
with this end in view, lifted him bodily in the air and dashed him down,
but Cuttance managed to throw out a leg and meet the ground with his
foot, which saved him. He was a noted wrestler. He could give the
famous Cornish hug with the fervour of a black bear, and knew all the
mysteries of the science. Often had he displayed his great muscular
power and skill in the ring, where "wrestlers" were wont to engage in
those combats of which the poet writes:--

"They rush, impetuous, with a shock
Their arms implicit, rigid, lock;
They twist; they trip; their limbs are mixed;
As one they move, as one stand fixed.
Now plant their feet in wider space,
And stand like statues on their base."

But never before had Jim Cuttance had to deal with such a man as Oliver
Trembath, who swung him about among the chairs, and crashed him through
the tables, until, seizing a sudden opportunity, he succeeded in
flinging him flat on the floor, where he held him down, and planted his
knee on his chest with such force that he nearly squeezed all the breath
out of him.

No word did Jim Cuttance utter, for he was incapable of speech, but the
colour of his face and his protruding tongue induced Oliver to remove
his knee.

Meanwhile