“I do know. Hark to the step!”
It was a little nearer. There was a queer dragging sound in it. Was it possible that some demon inspired this terrible man to an awful species of clairvoyance? How otherwise could he be on our tracks? Unless, indeed, the splash had informed him!
There was a gap in the hedge close by where we stood, and not far from it, in the field beyond, a haystack looming gigantic in the dark. With a rapid motion I dived, pulling Jason after me—and stooping low, we scurried for the shelter, and threw ourselves into the loose stuff lying on the further side of it. There, lying crushed into the litter, with what horror of emotion to one of us God alone may know, we heard the shuffling footsteps come rapidly up the road. As it neared the gap, my brother’s hand fell upon mine, with a convulsive clutch. It was stone cold and all clammy with the ooze of terror. As the footstep passed he relaxed his hold and seemed to collapse. I thought he had fainted, but mercifully I was mistaken.
The step behind the hedge seemed to go a little further, then die out all at once. I thought he had passed beyond our hearing, and lay still some moments longer listening—listening, through the faint rustling sounds of the night, for assurance of our safety.
At length I was on the point of rising, when a strained hideous screech broke from the figure beside me and I saw him sway up, kneeling, and totter sideways against the wall of hay. With the sound of his voice I sprung to my feet—and there was the pursuer, come silently round the corner of the stack, and gazing with gloating eyes upon his victim.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
A STRANGE VIGIL.
Had Jason fainted, as I thought he had, his enemy would have been upon him before I was aware of his presence even. As it was, in an instant I had interposed my body between them.
For a full minute, perhaps, we remained thus, like figures of stone, before I found my voice.
“You can go back,” I said, never taking my eyes off him. “It’s too late.”
He gave no answer, nor did he change his position.