E. W. Hornung: Dead Men Tell No Tales

CHAPTER 15: FIRST BLOOD (continued)

"Why?"

"Because if they were he couldn't see them, and if he heard them he would be frightened of their hearing him. But here he comes!"

A shuffling quick step on the path; a running grumble of unmistakable threats; a shambling moonlit figure seen in glimpses through the leaves, very near us for an instant, then hidden by the shrubbery as he passed within a few yards of our hiding-place. A diminuendo of the shuffling steps; then a cursing, frightened savage at one end of the rhododendrons, and we two stealing out at the other, hand in hand, and bent quite double, into the long neglected grass.

"Can you run for it?" I whispered.

"Yes, but not too fast, for fear we trip.'

"Come on, then! "

The lighted open doorway grew greater at every stride.

"He hasn't seen us yet - "

"No, I hear him threatening me still."

"Now he has, though! "

A wild whoop proclaimed the fact, and upright we tore at top speed through the last ten yards of grass, while the black rushed down one of the side paths, gaining audibly on us over the better ground. But our start had saved us, and we flew up the steps as his feet ceased to clatter on the path; he had plunged into the grass to cut off the corner.

"Thank God!" cried Eva. "Now shut it quick."

The great door swung home with a mighty clatter, and Eva seized the key in both hands.

"I can't turn it! "