“No!” growled Darke. And seizing the woman in his arms:—
“They shall not take you prisoner!” he said.
And the swarthy Hercules passed through the door in rear at a single bound, bearing off the woman like a feather.
A moment afterward the hoof-strokes of a horse were heard.
Darke had disappeared with the gray woman.
I turned to look at Mohun. He was standing perfectly motionless, and looking after Darke with a strange expression of gloom and astonishment.
“You are unhurt!” I said.
He turned quickly, and held out his hand.
“Slightly wounded—but I am not thinking of that.”
“Of what, then?”