Half-way there I stopped short and, holding my breath, listened intently. The wind had dropped and the rain had almost ceased, but the night was still as dark as pitch. I listened with strained ears and beating heart and soon I knew that I had not been mistaken. Coming down the hill between Rothland Wood gate and where I was, along the road by which we had just come, I could hear the faint, but nevertheless unmistakable, sound of light, running footsteps. Turning back, I stole softly down the path and stood in the middle of the road, waiting.
CHAPTER XIX.
A STRANGE ATTACK.
It could not in reality have been more than a minute or two, although it seemed to me then a terribly long while, before I again heard the sound which had attracted my attention. When I did, it was quite close at hand, just at the beginning of the range of farm-buildings which skirted the road. There was no possibility of any mistake. The situation was sufficiently plain, at any rate. Scarcely fifty yards away a man was coming running towards me, either barefooted or with very soft shoes on; and it was past midnight, pitch dark, and a lonely road.
Nearer and nearer the steps came, and my heart began to beat very fast indeed. At last, peering earnestly through the gloom, I made out the shadowy figure of a man only a yard or two away from me, running in the middle of the road, and a pair of wild, burning eyes glistened like fire against the dark background. I felt his warm, panting breath upon my cheek, heard a low, fierce cry, and a second later saw the figure give a spring sideways and vanish in the shade of the barn wall.
I followed cautiously; but, although I groped about in all directions, I could see nothing. So I stood quite still with my back to the wall, and called out softly:
“Who are you? Why are you hiding from me?”
No answer. I tried again:
“I don’t want to hurt you. I won’t do you any harm. I only want to know who you are, and what——”
I never finished the sentence. I became suddenly conscious of two glaring eyes looking at me, like pieces of live coal, from a crumpled heap on the ground. Then there was a quick, panting snort, a spring, and I felt a man’s long, nervous fingers clutching my throat. Gasping and choking for breath, I flung them off, only to find myself held as though in a vice by a pair of long arms. Drawing a deep breath, I braced myself up for the struggle with my unknown assailant.
More than once I gave myself up for lost, for my opponent was evidently a powerful man, and seemed bent on strangling me. But, fiercely though he struggled at first, I soon saw that his strength was only the frenzy of nervous desperation and that it was fast leaving him. By degrees I began to gain the upper hand, and at last, with a supreme effort, I threw him on his back and, before he could recover himself, I had my knee upon his chest and drew a long breath of relief.