The sound seemed to Britton so great a surprise, that he staggered, and dropped the knife from his trembling hand.
Her own voice appeared to have broken the spell of horror that bound up the faculties of Ada, and now, by an impulse which lent her strength and courage, she rushed from the place of concealment, and, snatching the knife from the ground, she fled quickly along the bridge, crying, “Help!—Help!”
She had not proceeded many paces when she was caught in the arms of some one who cried,—
“Hilloa!—hilloa! What now, little one?”
“Help!—Murder on the bridge!” cried Ada. “Oh!—Haste!—Haste!—Save the woman!”
It was the watchman going his rounds, and he hurried onwards, as fast as his chilled limbs would permit him, towards the spot indicated by Ada, who closely followed him.
“He has killed her!” exclaimed Ada, as she saw Maud lying apparently lifeless on the stones.
“Murder done!” cried the watchman.
Ada cast an anxious glance around her, and she thought that at the further extremity of the bridge she caught sight of the flying figure of the man who she believed had done the deed.
“There!” she said, pointing in the direction—“Pursue him!—There flies the murderer!”