"Then I tell you, I'm not," I said, quietly.
"How be 'ee goin' to git away, my sonny? It's 'bout wawn o'clock in the mornin' now. Nobody 'll come 'ere but chaps like we."
I made a leap at Sam Liddicoat suddenly, and struck him a stunning blow, which sent him with great force against the side of the cave. Then I turned to Bill Lurgy. My idea was to master him before Sam should recover, and then escape up the secret way to the copse. Bill leapt on me like a mad bull. "Oa, tha's yer soarts, es et?" he cried. "Well, I zed I'd ruther do et in 'ot fight."
I had not been struggling with Bill Lurgy more than a few seconds before I had mastered him. As I said, the Penningtons are a large race, and Bill Lurgy, strong man as he was, became but a child in my hands. He went on the floor of the cave with a thud, and then I fastened my hands around his throat. I felt mad at the moment, and, remembering that time, I can quite understand how men, when driven to extremities, can forget the sacredness of human life. But in mastering Bill I had forgotten Sam Liddicoat, whom I had struck down before he was aware of my intentions.
Hearing a sound behind me, I turned, and saw Sam with his knife uplifted. Whether I should have been able to save myself or no, I know not; I have sometimes thought it would have been impossible. Anyhow, Sam did not strike. He was startled, as I was, by a voice in the cave.
"No, Sam, no!"
We both turned and saw a man about fifty years of age. He was below the medium height, and although hardy and agile, apparently possessed no physical strength above the average. He had a large head, well shaped, while his features were clearly cut and, I thought, pleasing. His face, too, was cleanly shaved, and he was dressed with some amount of care. The only thing that was strange about him was the curious colour of his eyes. They were light gray, so light that sometimes they looked white.
He entered the inner cave as though he knew it well, and spoke very quietly.
"What, Sam," he said, in a honeyed voice, "wud you 'ave done a thing like that? Strick un down in a moment wethout givin' ev'n a chance to say hes prayers and to make hes paice, so to spaik? No, Sam; that wud never do!"