CHAPTER L. THE PURSUIT AND ESCAPE

d. Thethreespectatorsseemedquitestupefied.Theyofferednointerference,andtheboyandmanrolledonthegroundtogethertheformer,heedlessoftheblowsthatshowereduponhim,wrenchinghishandstighterandtighterinthegarmentsaboutthemurderer’sbreast,andneverceasingtocallforhelpwithallhismight. Thecontest,however,wastoounequaltolastlong.Sikeshadhimdown,andhiskneewasonhisthroat,whenCrackitpulledhimbackwithalookofalarm,andpointedtothewindow.Therewerelightsgleamingbelow,voicesinloudandearnestconversation,thetrampofhurriedfootsteps—endlesstheyseemedinnumber—crossingthenearestwoodenbridge.Onemanonhorsebackseemedtobeamongthecrowdfortherewasthenoiseofhoofsrattlingontheunevenpavement.Thegleamoflightsincreasedthefootstepscamemorethicklyandnoisilyon.Then,camealoudknockingatthedoor,andthenahoarsemurmurfromsuchamultitudeofangryvoicesaswouldhavemadetheboldestquail. “Help!”shriekedtheboyinavoicethatrenttheair.“He’shere!Breakdownthedoor!” “IntheKing’sname,”criedthevoiceswithoutandthehoarsecryaroseagain,butlouder. “Breakdownthedoor!”screamedtheboy.“Itellyouthey’llneveropenit.Runstraighttotheroomwherethelightis.Breakdownthedoor!” Strokes,thickandheavy,rattleduponthedoorandlowerwindow-shuttersasheceasedtospeak,andaloudhuzzahburstfromthecrowdgivingthelistener,forthefirsttime,someadequateideaofitsimmenseextent. “OpenthedoorofsomeplacewhereIcanlockthisscreechingHell-babe,”criedSikesfiercelyrunningtoandfro,anddraggingtheboy,now,aseasilyasifhewereanemptysack.“Thatdoor.Quick!”Heflunghimin,boltedit,andturnedthekey.“Isthedownstairsdoorfast?” “Double-lockedandchained,”repliedCrackit,who,withtheothertwomen,stillremainedquitehelplessandbewildered. “Thepanels—aretheystrong?” “Linedwithsheet-iron.” “Andthewindowstoo?” “Yes,andthewindows.” “Damnyou!”criedthedesperateruffian,throwingupthesashandmenacingthecrowd.“Doyourworst!I’llcheatyouyet!” Ofalltheterrificyellsthateverfellonmortalears,nonecouldexceedthecryoftheinfuriatedthrong.Someshoutedtothosewhowerenearesttosetthehouseonfireothersroaredtotheofficerstoshoothimdead.Amongthemall,noneshowedsuchfuryasthemanonhorseback,who,throwinghimselfoutofthesaddle,andburstingthroughthecrowdasifhewerepartingwater,cried,beneaththewindow,inavoicethatroseaboveallothers,“Twentyguineastothemanwhobringsaladder!” Thenearestvoicestookupthecry,andhundredsechoedit.Somecalledforladders,someforsledge-hammerssomeranwithtorchestoandfroasiftoseekthem,andstillcamebackandroaredagainsomespenttheirbreathinimpotentcursesandexecrationssomepressedforwardwiththeecstasyofmadmen,andthusimpededtheprogressofthosebelowsomeamongtheboldestattemptedtoclimbupbythewater-spoutandcrevicesinthewallandallwavedtoandfro,inthedarknessbeneath,likeafieldofcornmovedbyanangrywind:andjoinedfromtimetotimeinoneloudfuriousroar. “Thetide,”criedthemurderer,ashestaggeredbackintotheroom,andshutthefacesout,“thetidewasinasIcameup.Givemearope,alongrope.They’reallinfront.ImaydropintotheFollyDitch,andclearoffthatway.Givemearope,orIshalldothreemoremurdersandkillmyself.” Thepanic-strickenmenpointedtowheresucharticleswerekeptthemurderer,hastilyselectingthelongestandstrongestcord,hurrieduptothehouse-top. Allthewindowsintherearofthehousehadbeenlongagobrickedup,exceptonesmalltrapintheroomwheretheboywaslocked,andthatwastoosmallevenforthepassageofhisbody.But,fromthisaperture,hehadneverceasedtocallonthosewithout,toguardthebackandthus,whenthemurdereremergedatlastonthehouse-topbythedoorintheroof,aloudshoutproclaimedthefacttothoseinfront,whoimmediatelybegantopourround,pressinguponeachotherinanunbrokenstream. Heplantedaboard,whichhehadcarriedupwithhimforthepurpose,sofirmlyagainstthedoorthatitmustbematterofgreatdifficultytoopenitfromtheinsideandcreepingoverthetiles,lookedoverthelowparapet. Thewaterwasout,andtheditchabedofmud. Thecrowdhadbeenhushedduringthesefewmoments,watchinghismotionsanddoubtfulofhispurpose,buttheinstanttheyperceiveditandknewitwasdefea