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the bloody flannel into the bottle, he washed him all over with gin. The
mouth reappeared, and he opened one eyelid. His temples seemed
fractured.
"One round more, my friend," said Kilter; and he added, "for the honour
of the low town."
The Welsh and the Irish understand each other, still Phelem made no sign
of having any power of understanding left.
Phelem arose, supported by Kilter. It was the twenty-fifth round. From
the way in which this Cyclops, for he had but one eye, placed himself in
position, it was evident that this was the last round, for no one
doubted his defeat. He placed his guard below his chin, with the
awkwardness of a failing man.
Helmsgail, with a skin hardly sweating, cried out,--
"
I'll back myself, a thousand to one."
Helmsgail, raising his arm, struck out; and, what was strange, both
fell. A ghastly chuckle was heard. It was Phelem-ghe-Madone's expression
of delight. While receiving the terrible blow given him by Helmsgail on
the skull, he had given him a foul blow on the navel.
Helmsgail, lying on his back, rattled in his throat.
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