The noise of a shot rang through Durham's head as though a pistol had been fired close to his ear. He saw a splinter fly from the verandah post as the bullet glanced off.
"I've hit him! I've hit him! See if he's dead, Patsy. Don't be frightened. I tell you I'll cover him if he moves."
The light spread clear as the lamp was turned up, and Durham heard the slow-moving footsteps of the old man approaching.
"Bedad! It's all tied up he is!"
Quick footsteps came, and as Durham turned his eyes he saw, looking down at him, with her hair flying loose, her cheeks white, and her eyes wild with excitement, Nora Burke.
"What has happened? What does it mean?" she said slowly. "Patsy, get a knife and—no, let me."
She reached and caught hold of the cord tied round Durham's legs.
"Get a knife, Patsy. It is too tight to untie."
Obedient, the old man brought her the table-knife Durham had used at his supper, and with it she cut through some of the cords.
"Can you move now? Oh, it's a gag they put on you!" she exclaimed, as she leaned over him and cut the thong which held the muffler so securely across his mouth.