Then he stood up.
"If you move, Sanders, I fire!" he cried. "This time at you!"
But even as he said the words, the box was already empty. The man had slipped down with astonishing rapidity behind the wagonette, and when Geoffrey next saw him dimly through the mist he was already some yards away. Even while he hesitated, with another cartridge yet in his hand, he was gone, and waiting only to put it in, he ran down to the cart. The case, the same beyond a doubt as was in Mr. Francis's hand ten minutes ago, which he had seen Sanders swing on to the box just now, before mounting himself, was gone also.
At that he ran down, at the top of the speed he dare use, after the vanished figure. Once he heard the crunch of gravel to the right, and turned that way, already bewildered by this blind pursuit in the mist; once he thought he heard the rustle of bushes to his left, and turned there. Then, beyond any doubt, he heard his own name called. At that he stopped.
"Who is it?" he cried.
"Me, sir—Jim," said an imperturbable voice close to him.
"Ah! is Harry—is his lordship safe?"
"Yes, sir, quite safe. The doctor sent me out to see if I could help you."
Before Geoffrey could reply, a sudden wild cry rang out into the night, broken short by the sound of a great splash.
"My Gawd, what's that?" cried Jim, startled for once.