anges that ten minutes had
wrought in his opponent's countenance; but I think I was not the only
spectator who felt a thrill of fear mingling with disgust as the Big 'un
made his despairing effort, and fought his way in to the terrible
"half-arm rally." In truth, there was something unearthly and awful in
the sight of the maimed and mangled Colossus; his huge breast heaving
with wrath and pain; his one unblinded eye glaring unutterably; his
crushed lips churning the crimson foam. It was the last rash of the
Cordovan bull goaded to madness by picador and chulo; but Guy's fatal
left met him, straight, unyielding as the blade of the matador; twice he
reeled back wellnigh stunned; the third time he dropped his head
cleverly, so as to avoid the blow, and grappled. For some seconds the
two were locked together, undistinguishably; then we saw Guy's right
hand, never used till then save as a guard, rise and fall twice with a
dull, smashing sound, which was bad to hear; then the huge form of the
prize-fighter was whirled up unresistingly over his antagonist's hip,
and fell crashing down at his feet, a heap of blind, senseless, bleeding
humanity.

"Time!" You must call louder yet before he will hear, and lance a vein
in the throat before he will answer.

Then, in the old market-place of B----, there went up such a shout as I
think it has never heard since Vikings and Berserkyr caroused there
after storming the town. The gownsmen, as they will do on slighter
provocation, screamed themselves hoarse and voiceless with delight; and
their late opponents--the honest Saxon's love of a fair fight overcoming
the spirit of the partisan--echoed and prolonged the cheer.

There was no more thought of battle or broil; and there were as many
navvies as University men among the enthusiasts who bore the champion on
their shoulders into "The George."

How we reveled on that night of victory, especially when Guy, after
necessary ablutions and change of raiment, joined us, calm and
self-possessed as ever, only slightly swelled about the lower lip, and a
dark red flush on his forehead! He had satisfactory accounts of his
adversary, the said amiable individual having so far recovered, under
the surgeon's hands, as to swear thrice--"quite like hisself," the
messenger said--and to call for cold brandy and water.

Livingstone's health was proposed twice--the first time by a fellow of
King's, with a neat talent for classical allusions, who remarked t