The ground flew backward beneath me as if I had been standing on the platform of a railroad car.

Not far ahead of me there came from a side road into the main avenue on which I was travelling a Scorcher, scorching.

As he spun away in front of me, his body bent forward until his back was nearly horizontal, and his green-stockinged legs striking out behind him with the furious rapidity of a great frog trying to push his head into the mud, he turned back his little face with a leer of triumphant derision at every moving thing which might happen to be behind him.
[Illustration: "I THOUGHT FOR A FEW MOMENTS"] At the sight of this green-legged Scorcher my blood rose, and it was with me as if I had heard the clang of trumpets and the clash of arms.
I leaned slightly forward; I struck out powerfully, swiftly, and steadily; I gained upon the Scorcher; I sent into his emerald legs a thrill of startled fear, as if he had been a terrified hare bounding madly away from a pursuing foe, and I passed him as if I had been a swift falcon swooping by a quarry unworthy of his talons.
On, on I sped, not deigning even to look back.

The same spirit possessed me as that which fired the hearts of the olden knights.

I would have been glad to meet with another Scorcher, and yet another, that for the sake of my fair lady I might engage with each and humble his pride in the dust.
"It is true," I said to myself, with an inward laugh, "I carry no glove or delicate handkerchief bound upon my visor--" but at this point my mind wandered.