Neither spoke, neither stirred for some time.  There was no great strain upon Harry's hands now, since Penelly's grasp was desperate.  The former was content to lie there gazing into his enemy's eyes, for his strength was returning with every breath; that breathing was less laboured, and, in place of his heart throbbing and jumping, sending hot gushes of blood, as it were, choking to his throat, it began to settle steadily down to its ordinary labours in the breast of a strongly-built, healthy, temperate man.