Mine
was no grand way of fighting, but what was dignity where John was in
danger! For the moment I had the advantage, but, while determined to hold
on to the last, I feared she would get the better of me, for she was much
bigger and stronger, and crushed and kicked, and dug her elbows into me,
struggling like a mad woman.
All at once the tug of her hands on mine ceased. She gave a great shriek,
and I felt a shudder go through her. Then she lay still. I relaxed my
hold cautiously, for I feared a trick. She did not move. Horror seized
me; I thought I had killed her. I writhed from under her to see. As I did
so, I caught sight of the pale face of my uncle, looking in at that part
of the window next the larch-grove. Immediately I remembered lady
Cairnedge's terror in the kitchen, and knew that the cause of it, and of
her present cry, must be the same, to wit, the sight of my uncle. I had
not hurt her! I was not yet on my feet when my uncle left the window,
flew to the other side of it, and fell upon the men with a stick so
furiously that he drove them to the carriage. The horses took fright, and
went prancing about, rearing and jibbing. At the call of the coachman,
two of the men flew to their heads. I saw no more of their assailant.
John, who had not got a fair blow at one of his besiegers, left the
window, and came to me where I was trying to restore his mother.
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