That was my time, though, and I leaped in so quickly that, before there was time for another cut, I had tight hold of somebody, and there I was engaged in the fiercest struggle I ever had. There were the chairs knocking here, there, and everywhere, while I could feel somebody’s hot breath against my neck as, locked together, we swayed backwards and forwards. Once I was forced right back upon the dining-room table, but I sprang up again, and the next moment, whoever it was I struggled with had his head through the glass; while, as to the darkness, it was something fearful, for the lanthorn was knocked over, and only shone just in one corner by the floor. Jangle went a piano once as I was forced back on to it, and then the noise grew louder, for I could hear above the wild beast, worrying noise we made, the people upstairs screaming worse than ever.
“Well, there must be help come soon,” I thought, as now down, now up, we struggled on. I wanted to shout to my fellow-constable to come in, as he was not wanted outside, but I suppose he did not like the job of getting in, for he did not attempt to come, while as to calling him, I could just as soon have flown, for my adversary seemed quite satisfied with my company, and held on by my throat so tightly, that I was almost choked.
All at once, for about the sixth time, I tumbled over the sergeant, and this time down I went undermost, while my head came against one of those tin-plate warmers, and made the most outrageous noise you ever heard in your life. Well, this rather shook the sense out of me, tin being rather a hard metal to catch your head against—so hard, that it seemed to me to quite strike fire, and then taking advantage of my being a little beaten down, this fellow got his hand inside my stock, when what with the blow and the pressure of his knuckles in my throat, lights began to dance before my eyes, and I felt about done. However, it seemed to me to be now not a struggle for capture or escape, but for life and death, and in the last despair of the moment, I got hold of the fellow’s hand between my teeth, and hung on like a bull terrier.
How long this lasted I can’t say; but I remember hearing a crash, and seeing the flashed light of a bull’s-eye, when my lord rolled off me, and then through a sort of mist I could just see the sergeant’s face looking all bloody, while directly after the light of the lanthorn was thrown two or three times upon my face.
“How are you, my lad?” said the sergeant.
But I didn’t tell him, for the simple reason that I could not just then, but lay as still as could be, feeling afraid of tumbling, for the room appeared to be spinning round as fast as possible.
“How are you, my lad?” said the sergeant again directly after, but this time a little way off, and then I heard the “click, click” of the handcuffs, as he made them fast round my dear friend’s wrists.
But I did not answer then; for though the room had left off spinning so hard, my tongue seemed to have turned sulky, and would not speak, though it was not my fault a bit. One feeling, however, did seem to come upon me now strong, and that was that I should like to have a look at the man on the floor, though not an inch could I move right or left.
Well, seeing that I could not answer, the sergeant called in the outside man, and then after a look round the room, he went and opened the dining-room door, and called out:—
“Come down, and bring a light. We are the police.”