"Suppose I am, if that pleases you; and on my side, I promise that if you beat me, I quit this place as soon as you leave me well enough to do so, and will never visit it again. What! do you hesitate to promise? Are you really afraid I shall lick you?"
"You! I'd smash a dozen of you to powder."
"In that case, you are safe to promise. Come, 'tis a fair bargain.
Is n't it, neighbours?"
Won over by Kenelm's easy show of good temper, and by the sense of justice, the bystanders joined in a common exclamation of assent.
"Come, Tom," said an old fellow, "the gentleman can't speak fairer; and we shall all think you be afeard if you hold back."
Tom's face worked: but at last he growled, "Well, I promise; that is, if he beats me."
"All right," said Kenelm. "You hear, neighbours; and Tom Bowles could not show that handsome face of his among you if he broke his word. Shake hands on it."
Fighting Tom sulkily shook hands.
"Well now, that's what I call English," said Kenelm, "all pluck and no malice. Fall back, friends, and leave a clear space for us."
The men all receded; and as Kenelm took his ground, there was a supple ease in his posture which at once brought out into clearer evidence the nervous strength of his build, and, contrasted with Tom's bulk of chest, made the latter look clumsy and topheavy.