The latter, however, seemed possessed with an ungovernable fury and flew at his new assailant as if he would rend him to pieces. Even a blow from the ponderous fist, though it landed him three yards away flat on his back in the dusty road, in nowise discouraged him. In a moment he was on his feet flying like a tiger-cat at his antagonist’s throat, his dark eyes gleaming anew with electric fire. In the midst of the mêlée a hansom cab drove up, and the driver stopped to witness the double event.
Others of the group now gathered around, and I feared, not for the safety of the stranger’s limbs, but for his life. It was an “ugly” group for any single man to attack. These men, although easygoing enough up to a certain point, were incarnate fiends when roused, and they were already disposed to be quarrelsome.
At length the coal-heaver tore the other from his throat, and getting him at arm’s length promptly felled him to the ground.
No movement this time—was he dead? That sledge-hammer blow might well have fractured the skull of a delicate man!
Such men don’t always stop at knock-down blows, and when one, the worse for liquor, shouted “Kill the fellow,” I called to the cabman, “For Heaven’s sake get the injured man out of this.” “You get him inside here,” promptly replied the driver. “Stand back!” I yelled to the men with a horrified air, which was only half-assumed; “you have killed him,” and stooping down I raised the slender figure in my arms. As I did so the cabman turned his horse as if to drive off, but in reality in order to put his vehicle between the men and myself. This he did with much adroitness and without obstruction, as the others thought he was simply preparing to leave.
His movement enabled me to place the slowly recovering figure in the hansom cab without interference.
“Drive on!” I shouted, but, alas! a smoke-colored Hercules had seen my movements and had grasped the horse’s head with a grip of iron. It was the brute who had yelled “Kill him.”
Knowing remonstrance to be entirely useless I struck the wretch with my stick with all the force I could muster. He staggered under the blow and released his hold. A moment more and the horse sprang forward, and as the cab passed me I caught at the driver’s seat, and with one hand on that and a foot on the powerful spring which supported the body of the carriage on that side, I managed to hold on until we were clear of the dangers which threatened us.
When I joined my fellow-traveler inside the cab, I found him crouching on his knees with his head buried in the cushion of the seat. He had recovered consciousness and was moaning softly.
“Are you hurt?” I inquired as I entered the cab, alarmed lest the merciless blow of the laborer should have done the stranger some serious injury.