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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 4, February, 1858"

Accordingly I resumed my posture and my painful intense
musing. But now I could have almost sworn that I heard soft steps coming
up the staircase, and whispers floating upon the air of the great
solitary room:--_I did!_
But not soon enough. At the sound of a distinct, heavy footstep behind
me, I sprang up and turned about, but only to find myself pinioned by
one of the arms of a rough-looking, vicious-faced man, who pressed his
other hand tightly over my mouth. A confederate was busy at the case of
coins.
Although only a librarian, I have in my day been something of an
athlete; much more than the person who had rushed into so sudden an
intimacy reckoned upon. And I was pretty well strung up, too, with my
nonsensical fancies.
Being face to face with me, therefore, my assailant had mastered my
right arm, and was clasping my back with his left hand, while his right
was over my month. So driving back my left elbow, I struck him a sharp
and cruel blow in the right side, just above the hip-bone. It is a bad
place to strike; I would not hit there, unless unfairly attacked. The
sudden pain jerked a groan out of him, and surprised him into slackening
his hold; so that I wrenched myself loose, and gave him a straight,
heavy, right-hand hit in the nose, sending him reeling against the old
chest that came over in the Mayflower, which saved him from a fall.


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