"What do you mean?" The young engineer's tone was angry, imperious.
"You knows, you an' that girl. I seen her go away." Without more ado, he rushed viciously at the engineer and lashed out a sweeping blow with his bludgeon.
The young athlete sprang nimbly aside, and as the gipsy turned to make a second onslaught, the girl came out of the darkness of the wood behind and sprang on his back like a wild cat, pulling him over backwards and wrenching the stick from his grasp. She threw it to the engineer. "Take that," she said, "and watch him."
The gipsy, cursing and spitting like an angry cat, lashed out with his feet and caught the girl in the ribs.
With a little sob, like a punctured balloon, she sank down, a huddled, helpless heap. The gipsy lashed out again at her and then scrambled to his feet.
The engineer stood over him. "You swine," he said, and he brought the stick down over the man's shoulders for all he was worth. It was ash and very stout; there was not much "give" in it. He gave a coughing gasp, then closed with his assailant.
They wrestled fiercely. The gipsy was shorter and not so heavy, but exceedingly strong; he strove to work the engineer backwards towards the cliff, his hands sought his throat.
The girl sat up. "Mind the edge," she screamed. "Throw him over."
The engineer had dropped the stick, he passed his forearm across the gipsy's throat and forced his head backwards so that to save his neck or his back the man had to relax his grip. Instantly the engineer dealt him a severe blow on the chin with his fist.
The gipsy staggered backwards.