"George!" I panted. "Oh, George!"
But Black George only looked at me, and shook his head, and groaned.
"Oh, Peter!" said he, "you be a man, Peter! I've fou't—ah! many 's the time, an' no man ever knocked me down afore. Oh, Peter! I—I could love 'ee for it if I didn't hate the very sight of 'ee—come on, an' let's get it over an' done wi'."
So once again fists were clenched and jaws set—once again came the trampling of feet, the hiss of breath, and the thudding shock of blows given and taken.
A sudden, jarring impact—the taste of sulphur on my tongue—a gathering darkness before my eyes, and, knowing this was the end, I strove desperately to close with him; but I was dazed, blind—my arms fell paralyzed, and, in that moment, the Smith's right fist drove forward. A jagged flame shot up to heaven—the earth seemed to rush up towards me—a roaring blackness engulfed me, and then—silence.
CHAPTER XX
HOW I CAME UP OUT OF THE DARK
Some one was calling to me, a long way off.
Some one was leaning down from a great height to call to me in the depths; and the voice was wonderfully sweet, but faint, faint, because the height was so very high, and the depths so very great.
And still the voice called and called, and I felt sorry that I could not answer, because, as I say, the voice was troubled, and wonderfully sweet.