But Pyke ducked and he missed. Then the two men, clinching with their free hands, began a voiceless struggle for their lives. Pyke’s desperate efforts were to turn the pistol inwards, French’s to prevent him. Locked together, they swayed backwards and forwards. Then French tripped over a chair and they swung with a crash against the table. It gave way, and staggering across its wreckage, they fell. French found himself underneath and redoubled his efforts, but he was hampered by the blood from his wound, which ran down and blinded one of his eyes. Fortunately, he was the stronger man, and in spite of his handicap, slowly his strength and weight began to tell. Gradually he forced Pyke’s arm round until the other had to roll over on his back to save its dislocation.
Both men were now gasping and sobbing from want of breath. But French with a superhuman effort dropped Pyke’s left arm, and seizing his collar, twisted it tight. Pyke laid out with his free arm, but he was weakening, and French, spent and giddy, but thankful, felt he could hold on in spite of the blows, and that the affair was now only a matter of time.
And then, lying grimly clinging to the choking man’s collar, he felt a real thrill of delight as he saw the door slowly open, just as he had pictured it. Carter at last! It was over.
But it was not Carter who appeared. There, gazing down on them, with amazement printed on her features, was Mrs. Berlyn.
It did not take her long to appreciate the situation, and with a muffled scream she threw herself on the heaving mass.
“Give me the pistol, Stanley,” she cried, softly. “I’ll settle him.”
But Pyke was beyond coherent thought. Half insensible, he still kept his hand locked and she could not release the fingers. French, seeing the end, put all his remaining strength into a shrill cry of “Help!” before he felt the woman’s fingers tighten round his throat.
Letting go of the now unconscious Pyke, he tried desperately to loosen their clinging grip. But he was too weak. Choking, he struggled impotently, while gradually it grew darker, and he sank slowly into a roaring abyss of nothingness.
Chapter Twenty: Conclusion
When French struggled back into consciousness he found himself lying on the floor of that upper room with Sergeant Carter bending solicitously over him.