| BOOK ONE: THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS
CHAPTER 16: THE EXODUS FROM LONDON
 (continued)   My brother immediately grasped the situation, shouted, and
 hurried towards the struggle.  One of the men desisted and
 turned towards him, and my brother, realising from his antagonist's face that a fight was unavoidable, and being an
 expert boxer, went into him forthwith and sent him down
 against the wheel of the chaise.    It was no time for pugilistic chivalry and my brother laid
 him quiet with a kick, and gripped the collar of the man
 who pulled at the slender lady's arm.  He heard the clatter
 of hoofs, the whip stung across his face, a third antagonist
 struck him between the eyes, and the man he held wrenched
 himself free and made off down the lane in the direction from
 which he had come.    Partly stunned, he found himself facing the man who had
 held the horse's head, and became aware of the chaise
 receding from him down the lane, swaying from side to side,
 and with the women in it looking back.  The man before him,
 a burly rough, tried to close, and he stopped him with a
 blow in the face.  Then, realising that he was deserted, he
 dodged round and made off down the lane after the chaise,
 with the sturdy man close behind him, and the fugitive, who
 had turned now, following remotely.    Suddenly he stumbled and fell; his immediate pursuer
 went headlong, and he rose to his feet to find himself with
 a couple of antagonists again.  He would have had little
 chance against them had not the slender lady very pluckily
 pulled up and returned to his help.  It seems she had had a
 revolver all this time, but it had been under the seat when
 she and her companion were attacked.  She fired at six yards'
 distance, narrowly missing my brother.  The less courageous
 of the robbers made off, and his companion followed him,
 cursing his cowardice.  They both stopped in sight down the
 lane, where the third man lay insensible.    "Take this!" said the slender lady, and she gave my brother
 her revolver.    "Go back to the chaise," said my brother, wiping the blood
 from his split lip. |