Then Basil sprang at Greenwood, whom Rupert was struggling to hold down, and between them they secured him easily.

The man who had hold of me let go and turned to his rescue, but I leaped up like a spring released, and, to my infinite satisfaction, knocked the fellow down.

The other footman, bleeding at the mouth and quite demoralized, was stumbling out of the room.

My late captor, without a word, slunk after him, seeing that the battle was won.
Rupert was sitting astride the pinioned Mr Greenwood, Basil astride the pinioned Mr Burrows.
To my surprise the latter gentleman, lying bound on his back, spoke in a perfectly calm voice to the man who sat on top of him.
"And now, gentlemen," he said, "since you have got your own way, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling us what the deuce all this is ?" "This," said Basil, with a radiant face, looking down at his captive, "this is what we call the survival of the fittest." Rupert, who had been steadily collecting himself throughout the latter phases of the fight, was intellectually altogether himself again at the end of it.

Springing up from the prostrate Greenwood, and knotting a handkerchief round his left hand, which was bleeding from a blow, he sang out quite coolly: "Basil, will you mount guard over the captive of your bow and spear and antimacassar?
Swinburne and I will clear out the prison downstairs." "All right," said Basil, rising also and seating himself in a leisured way in an armchair.