Jarvis asked him how he was.
"Feel my pulse and tell me," said he.
"Steady as a rock, but devilish cold.

A little thrust and parry'll warm you.

Here we are, and there's your man and his second waiting." The boat scraped the rushes and the waterman held it while the two men scrambled on to the bank.
The ground was fairly well chosen for the purpose.

It was a tolerably firm piece of turf about a hundred yards long by some twenty broad and almost as smooth as a bowling green.

It was the only solid piece of earth for some distance, all around being at a lower level and boggy.
Not forgetful of the usual courtesies, the combatants bowed and took off their coats and vests.