PART ONE: The Old Buccaneer
Chapter 5: The Last of the Blind Man
(continued)
This quarrel was the saving of us, for while it was
still raging, another sound came from the top of the
hill on the side of the hamlet--the tramp of horses
galloping. Almost at the same time a pistol-shot,
flash and report, came from the hedge side. And that
was plainly the last signal of danger, for the
buccaneers turned at once and ran, separating in every
direction, one seaward along the cove, one slant across
the hill, and so on, so that in half a minute not a
sign of them remained but Pew. Him they had deserted,
whether in sheer panic or out of revenge for his ill
words and blows I know not; but there he remained
behind, tapping up and down the road in a frenzy, and
groping and calling for his comrades. Finally he took
a wrong turn and ran a few steps past me, towards the
hamlet, crying, "Johnny, Black Dog, Dirk," and other
names, "you won't leave old Pew, mates--not old Pew!"
Just then the noise of horses topped the rise, and four
or five riders came in sight in the moonlight and swept
at full gallop down the slope.
At this Pew saw his error, turned with a scream, and
ran straight for the ditch, into which he rolled. But
he was on his feet again in a second and made another
dash, now utterly bewildered, right under the nearest
of the coming horses.
The rider tried to save him, but in vain. Down went
Pew with a cry that rang high into the night; and the
four hoofs trampled and spurned him and passed by. He
fell on his side, then gently collapsed upon his face
and moved no more.
I leaped to my feet and hailed the riders. They were
pulling up, at any rate, horrified at the accident; and
I soon saw what they were. One, tailing out behind the
rest, was a lad that had gone from the hamlet to Dr.
Livesey's; the rest were revenue officers, whom he had
met by the way, and with whom he had had the
intelligence to return at once. Some news of the
lugger in Kitt's Hole had found its way to Supervisor
Dance and set him forth that night in our direction,
and to that circumstance my mother and I owed our
preservation from death.
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