espair. It was a hit of
his own devising,--an impromptu,--but it chanced to coincide with the
regulation hook hit at the head. He perceived with a leap of exultation
that the thing his fist had met was the jawbone of Charles. It was the
sole gleam of pleasure he experienced during the fight, and it was quite
momentary. He had hardly got home upon Charles before he was struck
in the chest and whirled backward. He had the greatest difficulty in
keeping his feet. He felt that his heart was smashed flat. "Gord
darm!" said somebody, dancing toe in hand somewhere behind him. As Mr.
Hoopdriver staggered, Charles gave a loud and fear-compelling cry. He
seemed to tower over Hoopdriver in the moonlight. Both his fists were
whirling. It was annihilation coming--no less. Mr. Hoopdriver ducked
perhaps and certainly gave ground to the right, hit, and missed. Charles
swept round to the left, missing generously. A blow glanced over Mr.
Hoopdriver's left ear, and the flanking movement was completed.
Another blow behind the ear. Heaven and earth spun furiously round
Mr. Hoopdriver, and then he became aware of a figure in a light suit
shooting violently through an open gate into the night. The man in
gaiters sprang forward past Mr. Hoopdriver, but too late to intercept
the fugitive. There were shouts, laughter, and Mr. Hoopdriver, still
solemnly squaring, realized the great and wonderful truth--Charles had
fled. He, Hoopdriver, had fought and, by all the rules of war, had won.

"That was a pretty cut under the jaw you gave him," the toothless little
man with the beard was remarking in an unexpectedly friendly manner.

"The fact of it is," said Mr. Hoopdriver, sitting beside the road to
Salisbury, and with the sound of distant church bells in his cars, "I
had to give the fellow a lesson; simply had to."

"It seems so dreadful that you should have to knock people about," said
Jessie.

"These louts get unbearable," said Mr. Hoopdriver. "If now and then we
didn't give them a lesson,--well, a lady cyclist in the roads would be
an impossibility."

"I suppose every woman shrinks from violence," said Jessie. "I
suppose men ARE braver--in a way--than women. It seems to me-I can't
imagine--how one could bring oneself to face a roomful of rough
characters, pick out the bravest, and give him an exemplary thrashing.
I quail at the idea. I thought only Ouida's guardsmen did things like
that."

"It was nothing more than my juty--as a gentleman,"