With a loud cry, Mr. Field rushed at the opening, and with superhuman strength hurled the apparition from him as he dashed past.
A dark form fell heavily into the bushes, but he stayed not to see. Scrambling, falling in the inky blackness, he at last gained the edge of the wood--how, he never knew. Drenched to the skin and with his eyes staring wildly before him, he reached his home. Speechless and trembling, he passed his astonished butler on the stairs, and paused not till he had locked himself into the safety of his own room.
There, at length, he was able to regain his composure, and think more calmly of the events of the preceding hour.
CHAPTER XI
The Treacherous Shore
It was about seven o'clock when a tap came at Mr. Field's door.
"Is that you, Burns?" was the response from within. "I am not feeling very well this evening, so I shall not come downstairs to dinner. You can bring me up something on a tray."
"Very good, sir," replied the butler, "but I wanted to ask you about master Julius. He has not been home all day, and we don't know where he's gone."
"Not been home all day," exclaimed Mr. Field, unlocking the door. "Surely with a houseful of servants you might have looked better after the boy than that."
Burns was relieved to find that his master appeared more like himself than when he had last encountered him, though still strangely perturbed, as if he had recently undergone some severe shock.