Warding off the blows as well as he could with the bar, Jack struck both the horses on the head, and the animals plunged so violently, that they not only prevented their riders from assailing him, but also kept off the hostlers; and, in the confusion that ensued, Jack managed to spring over the fence, and shaped his course across the field in the direction of Sir John Oldcastle's. “I tell you it was a lie!” he shouted wildly. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. “Mr. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. " "Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg.
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