Give me a little change." He kicked the sword along the passage, and threw his bar after it.
"Now," said he, "we are equal.

Come!" So saying, the blacksmith tapped the Roundhead on the chin.

The soldier made an attempt to defend himself, but fisticuffs were out of his line, and Matthew had a series of easy openings.

The smith punished him badly for a while, and then, remarking that he had set his heart on spoiling one or two more Roundheads before he died, followed the words with a blow on the soldier's nose that laid him low.
The blacksmith pulled himself together, and then, opening a cupboard door near by, pushed the sentry into it and turned the key.
The next thing was to liberate Barbara, who, when she heard what had happened, asked with nice tact if Matthew did not think that they could talk more comfortably in the kitchen, and Matthew replied that his brain was always more fertile in the presence of cold pasty and ale than at any other time.
"WAS THAT ALL RIGHT ?" GODFREY FAIRFAX ASKED GREGORY.
"FIRST-RATE," HE SAID.

"I CAN'T THINK WHY YOUR BOOKS DON'T SUCCEED." "PERHAPS THIS IS THE BEST OF THEM," ROBERT SUGGESTED.
"BARBARA IS VERY BRAVE," SAID JANET.