He darted to him in rage, took the tureen from his head, and, his blood being fairly up now, flung it with all his force at Morrison, and felled him to the earth.

At the same moment the master entered by the street door and his wife by the house door, which was directly opposite.

In the middle of the room the prisoners surrounded the fallen tyrant--Robert, with the red face of wrath, and Shargar, with a complexion the mingled result of tears, ink, and soup, which latter clothed him from head to foot besides, standing on the outskirts of the group.

I need not follow the story farther.

Both Robert and Morrison got a lickin'; and if Mr.Innes had been like some school-masters of those times, Shargar would not have escaped his share of the evil things going.
From that day Robert assumed the acknowledged position of Shargar's defender.