“Noa I wun’t let ’ee pass, not afore I give ’ee somethin’ for yerself. Ye be a pretty varmint to be a takin’ liberties wi’ my gell.”
“Now, look here, my man,” said our hero, in a much more serious tone of voice. “I’ll tell you frankly I’m not going to submit to impudence from an ignorant yokel like you, and if you don’t get out of the way I’ll mark you, big as you are. Your girl, indeed, and who is she I pray?”
“Ye know well enough. Don’t ’ee think ye can gammon me? I tell ’ee yer’re a dirty blackguard—that’s what ’ee be.”
“You’re an impertinent fellow. Are you drunk, mad, or what?” said Peace.
“I’m neither, but ’ee doen’t come betwixt me and her, not if I know it.”
“If you give me any more of your impudence I’ll chastise you on the spot.”
“Oh, oh,” exclaimed the other, mockingly, “you chastise—well dang it, that be a good un; we’ll soon see who’s the best man of the two.”
And with these words the speaker up with his fist and delivered a straightforward blow. It was as strong as a horse’s kick, and had it taken effect as the countryman intended, it would certainly have gone hard with our hero.
The blow was well meant, but like many other well-meant things it missed its mark. Peace, who had been expecting the attack, warded it off, and sprang back some three or four yards; he then ducked his head and ran with all his force full butt at the chest of his powerful antagonist.
The effect was magical; the man was sent reeling, and fell on his back full length on the hard road.