Fortitude | Page 7

of the room was still swinging a little, and they had forgotten to
close the window, so that the snow, which was falling more lightly now,
came in little clouds with breaths of wind, into the room--and the bells
were yet pealing and could be heard very plainly against the silence.
Then Sam Figgis, who was standing with his legs wide apart, said
something that Peter could not catch, and a little sigh of excitement
went up all round the room. Peter, who was clutching his chair with
both hands, and choking, very painfully, in his throat, knew, although
he had no reason for his knowledge, that the little man with the shining
chest meant to kill Stephen if he could.
The two men moved round the circle very slowly with their fists
clenched and their eyes watching every movement--then, suddenly,
they closed. At once Peter saw that the little man was very clever,
cleverer than Stephen. He moved with amazing quickness. Stephen's
blows came like sledge-hammers, and sometimes they fell with a dull
heavy sound on the other man's face and on his chest, but more often
they missed altogether. The man seemed to be everywhere at once, and
although the blows that he gave Stephen seemed to have little effect yet
he got past the other's defence again and again.
Then, again, the figures in front of Peter closed in and he saw nothing.
He stood on his chair--no one noticed him now--but he could not see.
His face was very white, and his stockings had fallen down over his
boots, but with every movement he was growing more afraid. He
caught an instant's vision of Stephen's face, and he saw that it was
white and that he was breathing hard. The room seemed to be
ominously silent, and then men would break out into strange
threatening sounds, and Peter could see one woman--a young girl--with
a red shawl about her shoulders, her back against the wall, staring with
a white face.
He could not see--he could not see....
He murmured once very politely--he thought he said it aloud but it was
really under his breath: "Please, please--would you mind--if you stood
aside--just a little...." but the man in front of him was absorbed and

heard nothing. Then he knew that there was a pause, he caught a
glimpse of the brick floor and he saw that Stephen was sitting back in
his chair--his face was white, and blood was trickling out from the
corner of his mouth on to his beard. Then Peter remembered old
Frosted Moses' words: "The courage you bring to it...." and he sat back
in his chair again and, with hands clenched, waited. He would be brave,
braver than he had ever been before, and perhaps in some strange way
his bravery would help Stephen. He determined with all the power that
he had to be brave. They had begun again, he heard the sound of the
blows, the movement of the men's feet on the rough brick of the floor;
people cried out, the man in front of him pressed forward and he had a
sudden view. Stephen was on one knee and his head was down and the
other man was standing over him. It was all over--Stephen was
beaten--Stephen would be killed, and in another minute Peter would
have pushed past the people and run into the middle of the room, but
Sam Figgis had again come forward, and the two men were in their
chairs again. There followed another terrible time when Peter could see
nothing. He waited--he could hear them moving again, the noise of
their breathing and of their feet, the men in the crowd were pressing
nearer, but there was no word spoken.
He must see--at all costs he must see. And he climbed down from his
chair, and crept unnoticed towards the front. Nobody saw him or
realised him.... Stephen was bending back, he seemed to be slowly
sinking down. The other man, from whose face blood was now
streaming, was pressing on to him. Peter knew that it was all over and
that there was no hope; there was a dreadful cold, hard pain in his
throat, and he could scarcely see. Courage! he must have it for Stephen.
With every bit of his soul and his mind and his body he was brave. He
stood taut--his little legs stiff beneath him and flung defiance at the
world. He and Stephen were fighting that shiny man together--both of
them--now. Courage! Stephen's head lifted a little, and then slowly
Peter saw him pulling his body together--he grew rigid, he raised his
head, and, as a tree falls, his fist crashed into his enemy's face. The man
dropped without a word and lay motionless. It was over.