"...wholly, I must confess, unintelligible to me, my dear sir, and I need not say unpleasant.Still one must side with one's old friends against the most fascinating new ones.Permit me, therefore, in tying you up in this antimacassar, to make it as commodious as handcuffs can reasonably be while..."I had staggered to my feet.The gigantic Burrows was toiling in the garotte of Rupert, while Basil was striving to master his mighty hands.Rupert and Basil were both particularly strong, but so was Mr Burrows; how strong, we knew a second afterwards.His head was held back by Rupert's arm, but a convulsive heave went over his whole frame.An instant after his head plunged forward like a bull's, and Rupert Grant was slung head over heels, a catherine wheel of legs, on the floor in front of him.Simultaneously the bull's head butted Basil in the chest, bringing him also to the ground with a crash, and the monster, with a Berserker roar, leaped at me and knocked me into the corner of the room, smashing the waste-paper basket.The bewildered Greenwood sprang furiously to his feet.Basil did the same.But they had the best of it now.
Greenwood dashed to the bell and pulled it violently, sending peals through the great house.Before I could get panting to my feet, and before Rupert, who had been literally stunned for a few moments, could even lift his head from the floor, two footmen were in the room.Defeated even when we were in a majority, we were now outnumbered.Greenwood and one of the footmen flung themselves upon me, crushing me back into the corner upon the wreck of the paper basket.The other two flew at Basil, and pinned him against the wall.Rupert lifted himself on his elbow, but he was still dazed.
In the strained silence of our helplessness I heard the voice of Basil come with a loud incongruous cheerfulness.
"Now this," he said, "is what I call enjoying oneself."I caught a glimpse of his face, flushed and forced against the bookcase, from between the swaying limbs of my captors and his.To my astonishment his eyes were really brilliant with pleasure, like those of a child heated by a favourite game.
I made several apoplectic efforts to rise, but the servant was on top of me so heavily that Greenwood could afford to leave me to him.He turned quickly to come to reinforce the two who were mastering Basil.The latter's head was already sinking lower and lower, like a leaking ship, as his enemies pressed him down.He flung up one hand just as I thought him falling and hung on to a huge tome in the bookcase, a volume, I afterwards discovered, of St Chrysostom's theology.Just as Greenwood bounded across the room towards the group, Basil plucked the ponderous tome bodily out of the shelf, swung it, and sent it spinning through the air, so that it struck Greenwood flat in the face and knocked him over like a rolling ninepin.At the same instant Basil's stiffness broke, and he sank, his enemies closing over him.
Rupert's head was clear, but his body shaken; he was hanging as best he could on to the half-prostrate Greenwood.They were rolling over each other on the floor, both somewhat enfeebled by their falls, but Rupert certainly the more so.I was still successfully held down.The floor was a sea of torn and trampled papers and magazines, like an immense waste-paper basket.Burrows and his companion were almost up to the knees in them, as in a drift of dead leaves.And Greenwood had his leg stuck right through a sheet of the Pall Mall Gazette, which clung to it ludicrously, like some fantastic trouser frill.
Basil, shut from me in a human prison, a prison of powerful bodies, might be dead for all I knew.I fancied, however, that the broad back of Mr Burrows, which was turned towards me, had a certain bend of effort in it as if my friend still needed some holding down.
Suddenly that broad back swayed hither and thither.It was swaying on one leg; Basil, somehow, had hold of the other.Burrows' huge fists and those of the footman were battering Basil's sunken head like an anvil, but nothing could get the giant's ankle out of his sudden and savage grip.While his own head was forced slowly down in darkness and great pain, the right leg of his captor was being forced in the air.Burrows swung to and fro with a purple face.
Then suddenly the floor and the walls and the ceiling shook together, as the colossus fell, all his length seeming to fill the floor.Basil sprang up with dancing eyes, and with three blows like battering-rams knocked the footman into a cocked hat.Then he sprang on top of Burrows, with one antimacassar in his hand and another in his teeth, and bound him hand and foot almost before he knew clearly that his head had struck the floor.Then Basil sprang at Greenwood, whom Rupert was struggling to hold down, and between them they secured him easily.The man who had hold of me let go and turned to his rescue, but I leaped up like a spring released, and, to my infinite satisfaction, knocked the fellow down.The other footman, bleeding at the mouth and quite demoralized, was stumbling out of the room.My late captor, without a word, slunk after him, seeing that the battle was won.Rupert was sitting astride the pinioned Mr Greenwood, Basil astride the pinioned Mr Burrows.
To my surprise the latter gentleman, lying bound on his back, spoke in a perfectly calm voice to the man who sat on top of him.
"And now, gentlemen," he said, "since you have got your own way, perhaps you wouldn't mind telling us what the deuce all this is?""This," said Basil, with a radiant face, looking down at his captive, "this is what we call the survival of the fittest."Rupert, who had been steadily collecting himself throughout the latter phases of the fight, was intellectually altogether himself again at the end of it.Springing up from the prostrate Greenwood, and knotting a handkerchief round his left hand, which was bleeding from a blow, he sang out quite coolly:
