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trode into the ring an overmatch for all could scarcely close his fingers round the glass of water which was to keep him from fainting. Yet there must be a soul of goodness even in things evil, for the first really conscious thought that flitted through his mind was a wish to make friends with his late antagonist, and, as he said it, he lunged heavily through the crowd of his admirers to a little knot of curious lookers on, amid whom what seemed the corpse of the redoubtable Heenan now lay. Sayers was with him, and kept with him but better advice was needed than any pugilist ought to be called upon to give; for Heenan, though not nearly so much punished as when he fought at Farnborough, was evidently much more injured. He was pulseless at the wrist, and even over the heart the palpitation was fluttering, faint, and low. Yet he had not fainted. It was the insensibility of exhaustion, the sheer want of vitality, though almost till he collapsed so suddenly he was supposed to be the win