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They cantered along in silence； for Fullalove was digesting this new trait in his pupil； and asking himself could he train it out； or must he cross it out。 Just outside the town they met Captain Robarts walking in； he had landed three miles off down the coast。 〃Hallo！〃 said Fullalove。
〃I suppose you thought I was drowned？〃 said Robarts spitefully； 〃but you see I'm alive still。〃
Fullalove replied； 〃Well； captain； that is only one mistake more you've made； I reckon。〃
About two English miles from the town they came to a long straight slope up and down； where they could see a league before them； and there they caught sight of David Dodd's tall figure mounting the opposite rise。
Behind him at some little distance were two men going the same way； but on the grass by the roadside； whereas David was on the middle of the road。
〃He walks well for Jacky Tar；〃 said Fullalove。
〃Iss； sar；〃 said Vespasian sulkily； 〃but dis 'Analogy' tink he not walk so fast as those two behind him； cos they catch him up。〃
Now Vespasian had hardly uttered these words when a thing occurred； so sudden and alarming； that the speaker's eyes protruded； and he was dumfounded a moment； the next a loud cry burst from both him and his companion at once； and they lashed their horses to the gallop and went tearing down the hill in a fury of rage and apprehension。
Mr。 Fullalove was right； I think： a sailor is seldom a smart walker； but Dodd was a cricketer； you know； as well。 He swung along at a good pace and in high spirits。 He had lost nothing but a few clothes； and a quadrant； and a chronometer； it was a cheap wreck to him； and a joyful one： for peril past is present delight。 He had saved his life； and what he valued more； his children's money。 Never was that dear companion of his perils so precious to him as now。 One might almost fancy that； by some strange sympathy； he felt the immediate happiness of his daughter depended on it。 Many in my day believe that human minds can thus communicate； overleaping material distances。 Not knowing； I can't say。 However； no such solution is really needed here。 All the members of a united and loving family feel together and work togetherwithout specific concertthough hemispheres lie between： it is one of the beautiful traits of true family affection。 Now the Dodds； father； mother； sister； brother； were more one in heart and love than any other family I ever saw： woe to them if they had not。
David； then； walked towards Boulogne that afternoon a happy man。 Already he tasted by anticipation the warm caresses of his wife and children； and saw himself seated at the hearth； with those beloved ones clustering close round him。 How would he tell them Its adventuresIts dangers from piratesIts loss at seaIts recoveryIts wreckIts coming ashore dry as a bone； and conclude by taking It out of his bosom and dropping It in his wife's lap with 〃Cheer； boys； cheer！〃
Trudging on in this delightful reverie； his ear detected a pitpat at some distance behind him： he looked round with very slight curiosity and saw two men coming up。 Even in that hasty glance he recognised the foulface of Andre Tiribout； a face not to be forgotten in a day。 I don't know how it was； but he saw in a moment that face was after him to rob him； and he naturally enough concluded It was their object。
And he was without a weapon； and they were doubtless armed。 Indeed； Thibout was swinging a heavy cudgel。
Poor Dodd's mind went into a whirl and his body into a cold sweat。 In such moments men live a year。 To gain a little time he walked swiftly on； pretending not to have noticed them： but oh！ his eyes roved wildly to each side of the road for a chance of escape。 He saw none。 To his right was a precipitous rock； to his left a profound ravine with a torrent below； and the sides scantily clothed with fir…trees and bushes： he was； in fact； near the top of a long rising ground called _〃La Mauvaise Cote；_〃 on account of a murder committed there two hundred years ago。
Presently he heard the men close behind him。 At the same moment he saw at the side of the ravine a flint stone about the size of two fists： he made but three swift strides； snatched it up； and turned to meet the robbers； drawing himself up high； and showing fight in every inch。
The men were upon him。 His change of attitude was so sudden and fiery that they recoiled a step。 But it was only for a moment： they had gone too far to retreat； they divided； and Thibout attacked him on his left with uplifted cudgel； and Moinard on his right with a long glittering knife。 The latter； to guard his head from the stone； whipped off his hat and held it before his head： but Dodd was what is called 〃left handed：〃 〃ambidexter〃 would be nearer the mark （he carved and wrote with his right hand； heaved weights and flung cricket…balls with his left）。 He stepped forward； flung the stone in Thibout's face with perfect precision； and that bitter impetus a good thrower lends at the moment of delivery； and almost at the same moment shot out his right hand and caught Moinard by the throat。 Sharper and fiercer collision was never seen than of these three。
Thibout's face crashed； his blood squirted all round the stone； and eight yards off lay that assailant on his back。
Moinard was more fortunate： he got two inches of his knife into Dodd's left shoulder； at the very moment Dodd caught him in his right…hand vice。 And now one vengeful hand of iron grasped him felly by the throat； another seized his knife arm and twisted it back like a child's。 He kicked and struggled furiously； but in half a minute the mighty English arm and iron fingers held the limp body of Jacques Moinard with its knees knocking； temples bursting； throat relaxed； eyes protruding； and livid tongue lolling down to his chin。 A few seconds more； and； with the same stalwart arm that kept his relaxed and sinking body from falling； Dodd gave him one fierce whirl round to the edge of the road； then put a foot to his middle； and spurned his carcase with amazing force and fury down the precipice。 Crunch！ crunch！ it plunged from tree to tree； from bush to bush； and at last rolled into a thick bramble； and there stuck in the form of a crescent But Dodd had no sooner sent him headlong by that mighty effort； than his own sight darkened； his head swam； and； after staggering a little way； he sank down in a state bordering on insensibility。 Meantime Fullalove and Vespasian were galloping down the opposite hill to his rescue。
Unfortunately； Andre Thibout was not dead； nor even mortally wounded。 He was struck on the nose and mouth； that nose was flat for the rest of his life； and half of his front teeth were battered out of their sockets； but he fell； not from the brain being stunned； but the body driven to earth by the mere physical force of so momentous a blow； knocked down like a ninepin。 He now sat up bewildered； and found himself in a pool of blood； his own。 He had little sensation of pain； but he put his hand to his face； and found scarce a trace of his features； and his hand came away gory。 He groaned。
Rising to his feet； he saw Dodd sitting at some distance； his first impulse was to fly from so terrible an antagonist； but； as he made for the ravine； he observed that Dodd was in a helpless condition； wounded perhaps by Moinard。 And where was Moinard？
Nothing visible of him but his knife： that lay glittering in the road。
Thibout with anxious eye turned towards Dodd； kneeled to pick it up； and in the act a drop of his own blood fell on the dust beside it。 He snarled like a wounded tiger； spat out half…a…dozen teeth； and crept on tiptoe to his safe revenge。
Awake from your lethargy or you are a dead man！
No！ Thibout got to him unperceived； and the knife glittered over his head。
At this moment the air seemed to fill with clattering hoofs and voices； and a pistol…shot rang。 Dodd heard and started； and so saw his peril。 He put up his left hand to parry the blow； but feebly。 Luckily for him Thibout's eyes were now turned another way； and glaring with stupid terror out of his mutilated visage： a gigantic mounted fiend； with black face and white gleaming； rolling eyes was coming at him like the wind； uttering horrid howls。 Thibout launched himself at the precipice with a shriek of dismay； and went rolling after his comrade； but ere he had gone ten yards he fell across a young larch…tree and hung balanced。 Up came the foaming horses： Fullalove dismounted hastily and fired three deliberate shots down at Thibout from his revolver。 He rolled off； and never stopped again till he splashed into the torrent； and lay there staining it with blood from his battered face and perforated shoulder。
Vespasian jumped off； and with glistening eyes administered some good brandy to Dodd。 He； unconscious of his wound； a slight one； relieved their anxiety by assuring them somewhat faintly he was not hurt； but that； ever since that 〃tap on the head〃 he got in the Straits of Gaspar； any angry excitement told on him； made his head swim； and his temples seem to swell from the inside。
〃I should have come off second…best but for you； my dear friends。 Shake hands over it； do！ O； Lord bless you！ Lord bless you both。 As for you； Vespasian； I do think you are my guardian ang