Sarita cried out in fear at the darkness and the sudden confusion.
"It is I, Sarita," I called, as I heard her close over us, and feared he would try to escape. "For God's sake, get some kind of light." I could speak no more, having to concentrate every effort to overcome Livenza, who was fighting and wrestling with the wild ferocity of madness. So fiercely did he struggle, and with strength which his madness increased so greatly, that at one time I half feared he would master me; but at length my grip fastened on his throat, and I pressed on it with all the strength at my command, disregarding the blows he rained upon me with frantic violence, and I hung on with a grip which he tried vainly to shake off, writhing, and twisting incessantly. His strength gave out at last; the blows grew fainter and the struggles weaker until he lay passive, choking, and seemingly unconscious in my grasp.
"I HUNG ON WITH A GRIP WHICH HE TRIED VAINLY TO SHAKE OFF."—Page 411.
"Can't you get a light, Sarita?" I asked, anxiously, for the whole struggle had taken place in pitchy darkness.
"Are you hurt?" was her reply, her voice trembling.
"Not in the least. Don't be a bit afraid, we'll soon be out of this mess." Finding that Livenza lay still, I plunged my hand into my pocket and found my match-box. "Here are matches;" and when our fingers touched in the dark hers were cold and shaking violently. I pressed them gently and whispered: "It's all right now, sweetheart;" and a moment or two later, the candle was found and re-lighted, revealing by its dim flame a scene of confusion and disorder in the humble little room which bore eloquent testimony to the scene which had just been enacted.
"You must hunt about and find something to tie this mad devil up with; I daren't leave him," I said next; and taking the candle she went out of the room, her face dead white, and her hands shaking so that the candle flickered unsteadily.
Meanwhile Livenza lay so still in the darkness that I began to fear he was dead. I could feel no pulse in his listless wrist, which dropped when I released it like the arm of a corpse. I unfastened his coat and laid my hand on his heart, and then I could just detect a faint fluttering; but it was enough to prove he still lived.
After a few minutes Sarita came back carrying a small length of cord which she had found; and with this I fastened his legs. Taking the candle I looked with a good deal of anxiety into his eyes; and sending Sarita for water I dashed it on his face, and made such crude efforts as I knew of to bring him back to consciousness. For a long time the effort seemed vain, and the apparent difficulty of restoring him, led me to an act of carelessness that came within an ace of proving fatal to everything.