She hesitated, then obeyed. It seemed to Leonard that the look upon her face said, “How can I leave you?”
“Now, Father,” said Leonard, “make a rush for it,” and leaning on the priest’s shoulder he stumbled towards the bridge. But he would never have reached it had it not been for Otter.
“Treason!” roared Pereira; “stop him! Who let down the bridge?”
A man came on the attack; it was the same young captain that Leonard had offered to fight before the auction. In his hand was a knife already uplifted to fall on Leonard’s back when Otter’s sabre flashed and the man went down.
“Seize the bridge and hold it,” roared Pereira again.
“Wind up! wind up!” yelled Otter in answer, as with sabre and pistol he held back the mob.
Those on the further side obeyed with such a will that Leonard and the priest rolled down the slanting planks.
“Otter!” cried Leonard—“good God! he will be killed!”
By way of answer Otter fired the last barrel of his pistol. Then with a yell, before his foes could close upon him he sprang like a wild cat straight at the iron chains of the bridge, which were used to secure it in its place when needful. At the moment they hung four feet or more above his head, but he grasped them and shouted to Soa to hoist away.
A man attempted to seize his legs, but Otter kicked him in the face and he fell into the water. Next second he was out of their reach and rapidly rising high into the air. Some threw knives and some fired pistol-shots after him, but none of these touched him.