Homo sum: humani nihil a me alienum puto.
Lancelot, I verily believe, would have kept his promise, though he saw that the keepers gave ground, finding Cockney skill too much for their clumsy strength; but at last Harry Verney, who had been fighting as venomously as a wild cat, and had been once before saved from a broken skull by Tregarva, rolled over at his very feet with a couple of poachers on him.
'You won't see an old man murdered, Mr.Smith ?' cried he, imploringly.
Lancelot tore the ruffians off the old man right and left.

One of them struck him; he returned the blow; and, in an instant, promises and Argemone, philosophy and anti-game-law prejudices, were swept out of his head, and 'he went,' as the old romances say, 'hurling into the midst of the press,' as mere a wild animal for the moment as angry bull or boar.

An instant afterwards, though, he burst out laughing, in spite of himself, as 'The Battersea Bantam,' who had been ineffectually dancing round Tregarva like a gamecock spurring at a bull, turned off with a voice of ineffable disgust,-- 'That big cove's a yokel; ta'nt creditable to waste science on him.

You're my man, if you please, sir,'-- and the little wiry lump of courage and conceit, rascality and good humour, flew at Lancelot, who was twice his size, 'with a heroism worthy of a better cause,' as respectable papers, when they are not too frightened, say of the French.
* * * * * 'Do you want any more ?' asked Lancelot.
'Quite a pleasure, sir, to meet a scientific gen'lman.

Beg your pardon, sir; stay a moment while I wipes my face.