the horse that's to win.
We've got the last. Keep your head, old boy."

But where is Arthur all this time? Words cannot paint the poor little
fellow's distress. He couldn't muster courage to come up to the ring,
but wandered up and down from the great fives'-court to the corner of
the chapel rails. Now trying to make up his mind to throw himself
between them, and try to stop them; then thinking of running in and
telling his friend Mary, who he knew would instantly report to the
Doctor. The stories he had heard of men being killed in prize-fights
rose up horribly before him.

Once only, when the shouts of "Well done, Brown!" "Huzza for the
School-house!" rose higher than ever, he ventured up to the ring,
thinking the victory was won. Catching sight of Tom's face in the state
I have described, all fear of consequences vanishing out of his mind, he
rushed straight off to the matron's room, beseeching her to get the
fight stopped, or he should die.

But it's time for us to get back to the close. What is this fierce
tumult and confusion? The ring is broken, and high and angry words are
being bandied about; "It's all fair,"--"It isn't,"--"No hugging;" the
fight is stopped. The combatants, however, sit there quietly, tended by
their seconds, while their adherents wrangle in the middle. East can't
help shouting challenges to two or three of the other side, though he
never leaves Tom for a moment, and plies the sponges as fast as ever.

The fact is, that at the end of the last round, Tom seeing a good
opening, had closed with his opponent, and after a moment's struggle had
thrown him heavily, by the help of the fall he had learnt from his
village rival in the vale of White Horse. Williams hadn't the ghost of a
chance with Tom at wrestling; and the conviction broke at once on the
Slogger faction, that if this were allowed their man must be licked.
There was a strong feeling in the school against catching hold and
throwing, though it was generally ruled all fair within certain limits;
so the ring was broken and the fight stopped.

The School-house are over-ruled--the fight is on again, but there is to
be no throwing; and East in high wrath threatens to take his man away
after next round (which he don't mean to do, by the way), when suddenly
young Brooke comes through the small gate at the end of the chapel. The
School-house faction rush to him. "Oh, hurra! now we shall get fair
play."

"Please, Brooke, come up, they won't