ation,
"get down there, and pick up all these chessmen, or I'll wring your neck
for you." The fellow made a blow at him with his free hand, a blow that
Coristine parried, and then the Irishman, letting go of his antagonist's
arm, gave him a sounding whack with all the might of his right fist,
that sent him sprawling to the ground.

"Pile in on 'im, boys!" cried the prostrate ruffian, who had lost a
tooth and bled freely at the nose. The other two prepared to pile, when
the schoolmaster faced one of them, and kept him off. It is hard to say
how matters would have gone, had not a tornado entered the bar room in
the shape of Timotheus. How he did it, no one could tell, but, in less
than two minutes, the two standing bullies and the prostrate one were
all outside the tavern door, which was locked behind them. Peace once
more reigned in the hotel, and it was in order for Matt and the Grinstun
man to congratulate Coristine on his knock down blow. He showed no
desire for their commendation, but, with his friend, whom Timotheus
helped to pick up the chessmen, retired to his room. The Crew's brother
had disappeared before he had had a chance to thank him.

Before retiring for the night, the lawyer was determined to be upsides
with Mr. Rawdon. He asked his roomfellow if he had any writing
materials, and was at once provided with paper, envelopes, and a
fountain pen.

"I hope I'm not depriving you of these, Wilks, my dear," he said, when
the party thus addressed almost threw himself upon his neck, saying,
"Corry, my splendid, brave fellow, everything I have is at your absolute
disposal, 'supreme of heroes--bravest, noblest, best!'" for he could not
forget his Wordsworth. Coristine wrote to the clerk of the municipality
of Flanders, to know where Miss Jewplesshy or Do Please-us had a lot,
and whether the taxes on it had been paid. He directed him to answer to
his office in Toronto, and also wrote to his junior, instructing him how
to act upon this reply. These letters being written and prepared for the
post, he and the dominie read together out of the little prayer book,
left the window open and the lamp burning, and went to bed. Before they
fell asleep, they heard the barking of a dog. "It's that poor brute,
Muggins," said Coristine; "I'll go, and let him in, if that brute of a
master of his won't." So, in spite of Wilkinson's remonstrances, he
arose and descended the stairs to the bar-room. Nobody was there but
Timotheus sleep