Bevis Part 34

"Give in! give in!" shouted Phil, pushing to Val's a.s.sistance. "You're done! It's no good. You can't help it. Hurrah!"

Two soldiers appeared in the fork of the tree above. Though so huge the trunk was short, and they began to strike down on Mark, who was forced to stand out so far from the tree that he was in great danger of being seized, and would have been, had they not been so bent on Bevis.

Bevis breathed hard and panted. So thick came the hail that he could do nothing. If he lifted his sword it was beaten down, if he struck, ten knocks came for one. He received his punishment in silence. Tim had the cord to bind him ready: they made a noose to throw, over his head.

"Stick to Bevis," shouted Mark. "Bevis--Bevis--stick to Bevis--Fred-- ah!"--a smart knock made him grind his teeth, and four or five a.s.sailants rushing in separated him from Caesar.

Bevis was beaten on his knee. He crouched, his left side against the tree with his left hand against it, hitting wild and savage, and still keeping a short clear s.p.a.ce with his sword.

"Stop!" cried Val, himself desisting. "That's enough. Stop! stop!

Don't hit him! He's done. We've got him! Now, Phil."

Phil and Tim rushed in with the noose: Bevis sprang up, drove his head into Phil and sent him whirling with Tim under. Bevis made good use of the moment's breathing time he thus obtained, punishing three of his hardest thrashers.

"Keep together," shouted Phil as he got up on his knees. "If Ted would only do as I said. Hurrah!"

They had hammered Bevis by sheer dint of knocks down on his knees again.

Fred and Bill in vain tried to get to him; they were attacked front and rear: Mark quite beside himself with rage, pushed, wrestled, and struck, but they encompa.s.sed him like bees. Bevis could hit no more; he warded as well as he could, he could not return.

"Shame! shame!" cried Val, pulling two back, one with each hand. "Don't hit him! He's down!"

"Why doesn't he give in, then?" said Phil, black as thunder.

Ted Pompey, who had watched this scene for a moment without moving, smiled grimly as he saw Bevis could not hit.

"Now," said he, "Phil, Tim, George--Val's too soft. Come on--keep close--in we go and have him. Hurrah! Hang it! I say!"

"Whoop!"

End of Volume One.

Volume Two, Chapter I.

THE BATTLE CONTINUED--SCIPIO'S CHARGE.

Scipio's cohort rushed them clean away from the sycamore. In a ma.s.s, Scipio Cecil and his men (fetched by Charlie), with half or more of Caesar's scattered soldiers, who rallied at once to Cecil's compact party, rushed them right away. Cecil forced his men to be quiet as they ran; they saw the point, and there was not a sound till in close order they fell on Pompey. Pompey, Val, Phil, and the whole attacking party were swept away like leaves before the wind. Had they seen Scipio coming, or heard him, or in the least expected him, it would not have been so. But thus suddenly burst on from the rear, they were helpless, and carried away by the torrent.

In a second Bevis, Mark, Fred, and Bill, found themselves free. Bevis stood up and breathed again. They came to him. "Are you hurt?" said Mark.

"Not a bit," said Bevis, laughing as he shook himself together. "Look there!"

Whirled round and round by the irresistible pressure of the crowd, Pompey and his lieutenants were hurried away, shouting and yelling, but unable even to strike, so closely were they hemmed in.

"They've got my eagle," said Mark in a fury. His standard-bearer had been overthrown while he defended himself at the tree, and the eagle taken from him.

"Phil's down," said Fred. "So's Tim! And Ike! Hurrah!"

"Look at little Charlie hitting!" said Bill. "Shout for Charlie," said Bevis. "Capital!"

"My eagle," said Mark.

"Quick," said Bevis suddenly. "Mark--quick; you and Fred, and Bill, and these,"--three or four soldiers who came up now things looked better--"run quick, Mark, and get in the hollow, you know where we cooked the bird, they're going that way. See, Ted's beginning to fight again, and you will be behind him. Make an ambush, don't you see?

Seize him as he goes by. Quick! I'm tired, I'll follow in a minute."

Off ran Mark, Fred, Bill, and the rest, and making a little circuit, got into the bowl-like hollow. The crowd with Scipio Cecil was still thrusting Pompey and his men before them, but Ted had worked himself free by main force, and he and Val Cra.s.sus, side by side, were fighting as they were forced backwards. Step by step they went backwards, but disputing every inch, straight back for the hollow where Mark and his party were crouching. In half a minute Ted would certainly be taken.

"Victory!" shouted Bevis, in an ecstasy of delight. He had been leaning against the sycamore: he stood up and stepped just in front of it to see better, shading his eyes (for his hat had gone long since) with his left hand, the point of his sword touched the ground. He was alone, he rejoiced in the triumph of his men. The gale blew his hair back, and brushed his cheek. His colour rose, a light shone in his eyes.

"We've won!" he shouted. Just then the hurricane smote the tree, and as there was less noise near him, he heard a bough crack above. He looked up, thinking it might fall; it did not, but when he looked back Ted was gone.

"He's down!" said Bevis. "They've got him."

He could see Mark Antony, who had risen out of the hollow; thus caught between two forces, Scipio pushing in front, the Pompeians broke and scattered to the right in a straggling line.

"Hurrah! But where's Ted? Hurrah!"

Bevis was so absorbed in the spectacle that, though the fight was only a short distance from him, the impulse to join it did not move him. He was lost in the sight.

"They're running!"

"I've got you!"

Ted Pompey pounced on him from behind the sycamore-tree; Bevis involuntarily started forward, just escaping his clutch, struck, parried, and struck again.

Pompey, while driven backwards step by step by Scipio, had suddenly caught sight of Bevis standing alone by the sycamore. He slipped from Scipio, and ran round just as Bevis looked up at the cracking bough, and Mark sprang out of the hollow. Scipio's soldiers shouted, seeing Pompey as they thought running away. Mark for a moment could not understand what had become of him, the next he was occupied in driving the Pompeians as they yielded ground. Pompey running swiftly got round behind the tree and darted on Caesar, whose strategy had left him alone, intending to grasp him and seize him by main force.

Caesar Bevis slipped from him by the breadth of half an inch.

Pompey hit hard, twice, thrice; crash, clatter. His arm was strong, and the sword fell heavy; rattle, crash. He hit his hardest, fearing help would come to Bevis. Swish! slash!

Thwack! He felt a sharp blow on his shoulder. Bevis kept him off, saw an opportunity, and cut him. With swords he was more than Ted's match.

He and Mark had so often practised they had both become crafty at fencing. The harder Ted hit, overbalancing himself to put force into the blow, and the less able to recover himself quickly, the easier Bevis warded, and every three knocks gave Ted a rap. Ted danced round him, trying to get an advantage; he swung his sword to and fro in front of him horizontally. Bevis retired to avoid it past the sycamore. Finding this answer, Ted swung it all the more furiously, and Bevis retreated, watching his chance, and they pa.s.sed several trees on to the narrow breadth of level short sward between the trees and the quarry.

Ted's chest heaved with the fury of his blows; Bevis could not ward them, at least not so as to be able to strike afterwards. But suddenly, as Ted swung it still fiercer, Bevis resolutely received the sword full on his left arm--thud, and stopped it. Before Ted could recover himself Bevis. .h.i.t his wrist, and his sword dropped from it on the ground.

Ted instantly rushed in and grappled with him. He seized him, and by sheer strength whirled him round and round, so that Bevis's feet but just touched the sward. He squeezed him, and tried to get him across his hip to throw him; but Bevis had his collar, and he could not do it.

Bevis got his feet the next instant, and worked Ted, who breathed hard, back.

The quarry was very near, they were hardly three yards from the edge of the cliff; the sward beneath their feet was short where the sheep had fed it close to the verge, and yellow with lotus flowers. Yonder far below were the waves, but they saw nothing but themselves.

The second's pause, as Bevis forced Ted back two steps, then another, then a fourth, as they glared at each other, was over. Ted burst on him again. He lifted Bevis, but could not for all his efforts throw him.

He got his feet again.

"You punched me!" hissed Ted between his teeth.

"I didn't."