But this was his undoing.  He came at me with the same ferocity as before, and, confident of a speedy victory, gave me an opening of which I was quick to take advantage.  In a trice I was within his guard; I dealt him a right-hander with all my force; he staggered, and before he could recover, a left-hander got him on the point of the chin, and over he went with a thud on to the floor.

His companions bent over him in consternation.  At that moment I could have made my escape, I doubt not, had I chosen to dash for the door, and indeed, I was on the point of doing so when I was stayed by some feeling that it would be hardly becoming to take flight then.  Besides, the coin for which I had fought was still in the fallen man’s pocket.

He got up by and by, somewhat dazed and rubbing his head.  He glowered at me for a moment, then flung the crown towards me with a curse.

“Who said he was green?” he muttered, allowing Job to help him on with his coat.

“He’s a viper,” said Job consolingly.  “We won’t tell no one, Topper.”

It was light by this time, and Bill remarked that they had best be getting back to Bridgenorth, or they would find folk astir.  They looked at me with some hesitation; then Job said: 

“We’re a-going to make you fast, my bawcock, and don’t make no mistake.  Ads bobs, if ye come to Bridgenorth Fair we’ll find some ’un to down you, strike me if we don’t.”

They bound my legs and arms with withes that are used for tying trusses of hay, and left me.

I felt some natural satisfaction in the issue of this fight; but it made poor amends for the loss of my clothes and my guineas.  Luckily my knapsack, hidden in the hay, had escaped the poachers’ observation; and the recovery of Dick Cludde’s crown piece gave me a good deal of pleasure.

The moment the poachers were gone, I began to try to free myself from my bonds, but it was only after much painful wriggling and straining that I at length released my hands.  My clasp knife had departed with my breeches; Bill’s pockets were empty; but after some search, crawling about the barn, I discovered a broken slate wherewith to cut the fastenings of my feet.  And then, when I stood upright, and with leisure for thought became fully aware of the sorry figure I cut, in foul garments a world too small for me, I was nigh overwhelmed with a feeling of despair, and was almost ready to wait until nightfall, and slink back by byways to Shrewsbury.  But after a while I got the better of this heartsickness, and, rating myself for a poltroon, I strapped on my knapsack and issued forth from the barn, doggedly resolved to pursue my journey.