Page 116 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

Maurice Frere was no coward. Brutal and selfish though
he might be, his bitterest enemies had never accused him
of lack of physical courage. Indeed, he had been—in the
rollicking days of old that were gone—celebrated for the dis-
play of very opposite qualities. He was an amateur at manly
sports. He rejoiced in his muscular strength, and, in many
a tavern brawl and midnight riot of his own provoking, had
proved the fallacy of the proverb which teaches that a bully
is always a coward. He had the tenacity of a bulldog—once
let him get his teeth in his adversary, and he would hold on
till he died. In fact he was, as far as personal vigour went, a
Gabbett with the education of a prize-fighter; and, in a per-
sonal encounter between two men of equal courage, science
tells more than strength. In the struggle, however, that was
now taking place, science seemed to be of little value. To the
inexperienced eye, it would appear that the frenzied giant,
gripping the throat of the man who had fallen beneath him,
must rise from the struggle an easy victor. Brute force was
all that was needed—there was neither room nor time for
the display of any cunning of fence.
But knowledge, though it cannot give strength, gives
coolness. Taken by surprise as he was, Maurice Frere did
not lose his presence of mind. The convict was so close upon
him that there was no time to strike; but, as he was forced
backwards, he succeeded in crooking his knee round the
thigh of his assailant, and thrust one hand into his col-
lar. Over and over they rolled, the bewildered sentry not
daring to fire, until the ship’s side brought them up with a
violent jerk, and Frere realized that Gabbett was below him.

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