I struggled up again though, and held on with the stubbornness of a bull-dog.
Then being stronger than I he swung me round, so that I was crushed up against the trunk of one of the trees, but the more he hurt me the more angry I grew, and held on, striking at him whenever I could get an arm free.

I could hear him grinding his teeth as he struggled with me, and at last I caught my feet in a currant bush, for even then I could tell it by the smell, and down I went.
But not alone.

I held on to him, and dragged him atop of me.
"Let go!" he cried hoarsely, as he struck me savagely in the face; and when the pain only made me hang on all the more tightly he called out to his companion, who had taken no farther part in the fray: "Here, Phil, Phil.

Come on, you sneak." I felt as if I had been stunned.

Not by his blow, but by his words, as for the first time I realised with whom I had been engaged.
A rustling noise on my left warned me that some one else was coming; but I let my hands fall to my side, for I had made a grievous mistake, and must strike no more.
In place now of my hanging on to Courtenay, he was holding me, and drawing in his breath he raised himself a little, raised one hand and was about to strike me, but before he could, Philip seemed to seize me by the collar, and his brother too, but in an instant I felt that it was a stronger grip, and a hoarse gruff voice that I knew well enough was that of Sir Francis shouted out, "Caught you, have I, you young scoundrels." As he spoke he made us rise, and forced us before him--neither of us speaking--through the bushes and on to the path, a little point of light appearing above me, and puffs of pungent smoke from a cigar striking my face.
"I've got t'other one," said a rough voice that I also recognised, and I cried out involuntarily: "Ike--Ike!" "That's me, lad.