“But the house moves.”
“Follow me—you are in my power.”
It lightened again.
The flash disclosed that the traveler had drawn a pistol.
“It is useless for you to use weapons,” said Peter; “you are in my power.”
There was a crack in the air. A pistol-shot struck the mask in the window and broke it. Then all was darkness and silence.
“Follow me,” said the lad. “Your shot was vain. You are a traitor, and you are in my power. I could take your life in a minute. Follow me.”
“But your house moves,” said the man in a voice that trembled.
He may have had a brave heart, but few brave men at that time were proof against the terrors of superstition. The man evidently believed that he was in the power of some evil spirit.
There was another lightning flash. The man had turned.