My ears had told me truly—our enemy was once more approaching us. I leaned over the back of the car, this time determined that I would at least make an endeavour to stop his progress. The road was without a bend for a stretch of at least two hundred yards, and the moment he came into the straight he was clearly visible to us in the light of the moon. I did not wait. The moment I saw him distinctly, I lifted my revolver and pulled the trigger as rapidly as I was able. Before I had emptied three chambers he was level. I was just in the act of firing a third time, when a flash of fire spurted from the running car and my pistol dropped from my hand. Something had struck me violently on the arm. I felt no pain for the moment, only curiously numbed and cold. I wondered why my companion should continue to fire at the rapidly disappearing form of the Pirate, who appeared to me to be swerving from side to side of the road in the most ridiculous fashion. In another moment he was out of sight. I felt extremely sick, and, with something between a groan and a sigh, I sank back into my seat.

"I fancy one of us must have got him," said Forrest, in an excited tone. "Let us get on."

"I hope you are right," I answered. "For he has certainly managed to wing me."

The shock had passed off, and, with the return of sensation, my arm felt as if a red-hot iron had been run through it, while there was a similar sort of feeling about my chest.

"Really," said Forrest, as he looked closely into my face. He must have seen that I was not joking, for he jumped out of the car and came back with one of the lamps in his hand. "Where is it?" he asked, with some anxiety.

"Merely the arm, I fancy," I replied.

He took a knife from his pocket, and, without a moment's hesitation, ripped up the sleeve of the overcoat and under-coat which I was wearing. The shirtsleeve was already soaked with blood, and his face was curiously anxious as he cut away the linen and felt the bone from wrist to shoulder. Then his face cleared.

"Only through the muscle," he remarked. "A fortnight will see the wound completely healed."

Meanwhile he was tearing his handkerchief into strips, and, with this improvised bandage, he bound up the wound.

"Sure that is all?" he asked, when he had tightened it to his satisfaction.