They crept nearer and nearer, and, at last, made an almost simultaneous rush on him back and front.

The man in the rear was a shade in advance of the other.  Little, whose whole soul was in arms, had calculated on this, and turning as they came at him, sent a shovelful of fiery coals into that nearest assailant’s face, then stepped swiftly out of the way of the other, who struck at him too immediately for him to parry; ere he could recover the wasted blow, Little’s hot shovel came down in his head with tremendous force, and laid him senseless and bleeding on the hearth, with blood running from his ears.

Little ladled the coals right and left on the other two assailants, one of whom was already yelling with the pain of the first shovelful; then, vaulting suddenly over a pew, he ran for the door.

There he was encountered by Sam Cole, an accomplished cudgel-player, who parried his blows coolly, and gave him a severe rap on the head that dazzled him.  But he fought on, till he heard footsteps coming behind him, and then rage and despair seized him, he drew back, shifted his hammer into his right hand and hurled it with all his force at Cole’s breast, for he feared to miss his head.  Had it struck him on the breast, delivered as it was, it would probably have smashed his breastbone, and killed him; but it struck him on his throat, which was, in some degree, protected by a muffler:  it struck him and sent him flying like a feather:  he fell on his back in the porch, yards from where he received that prodigious blow.

Henry was bounding out after him, when he was seized from behind, and the next moment another seized him too, and his right hand was now disarmed by throwing away the hammer.

He struggled furiously with them, and twice he shook them off, and struck them with his fist, and jobbed them with his shovel quick and short, as a horse kicking.

But one was cunning enough to make a feint at his face, and then fell down and lay hold of his knees:  he was about to pulverize this fellow with one blow of his shovel, when the other flung his arms round him.  It became a mere struggle.  Such was his fury and his vigor, however, that they could not master him.  He played his head like a snake, so that they could not seize him disadvantageously; and at last he dropped his shovel and got them both by the throat, and grasped them so fiercely that their faces were purple, and their eyes beginning to fix, when to his dismay, he received a violent blow on the right arm that nearly broke it:  he let go, with a cry of pain, and with his left hand twisted the other man round so quickly, that he received the next blow of Cole’s cudgel.  Then he dashed his left fist into Cole’s eye, who staggered, but still barred the way; so Little rushed upon him, and got him by the throat, and would soon have settled him:  but the others recovered themselves ere he could squeeze all the wind out of Cole, and it became a struggle of three to one.