“I can’t ask their help if they do not offer it,” muttered Bayle, as he staggered on, growing weaker with his exertion, and finally stopping for a moment or two so as to get his breath.
Then came the confused murmur of voices, when, looking back, he saw that he was pursued; and as he pressed forward again the horrible thought flashed through his brain that he was leading the savage band of utterly reckless men right to the house where two tender women might even then be trembling witnesses of what was going on. The agony he suffered at this thought was so great that he stopped short, his brain swimming; and, in spite of the fact that the convicts were close behind, he would have staggered off to the left, had not a white figure suddenly appeared on the side farthest from where Hallam and Crellock had backed close to the window, and ran swiftly to meet him.
It was like some episode in a dream to Bayle, as that white figure flew to his side.
“Quick, Mr Bayle, quick!” and, catching at Eaton in the belief that she was helping to bear him, Julia pressed towards the house.
“Julie! are you mad?” roared Hallam, as soon as she was seen; and Crellock started out after her.
“Quick! help! help!” she cried in a sharp imperious manner; and, as is so often the case where one quick order is given, those who would not, if they had time to think, stir a finger in a cause, feel themselves moved by some irresistible influence, and obey. So Crellock seized Eaton, and helped bear him into the dining-room, Hallam banging to the window and fastening it as Eaton was thrown upon the couch.
“You are mad!” cried Hallam passionately. “They’ll wreck the place now.”
“They won’t hurt us,” said Crellock coolly; and to Julia’s horror he threw open the window as the convicts came up at the double and rushed into the room.
“Steady, mates, steady!” shouted Hallam. “You know us.”
The leading men hesitated a moment, and then one of them made a dash at Eaton.