He tried to laugh, and furious with her could well have abused her. But he could not find the words; and as she fled from him through the darkness, he murmured under his breath:
“What does this mean? But what modesty! And [[61]]what next? What! You might think I had committed sacrilege.”
He turned and sprang up the embankment and searched for her. Where? Thick bushes hid her in her flight. There was no hope of catching her.
He cursed and swore; once again he was full of hate for the murderess, a hate whetted keener by the rancor of a man rebuffed; he was even considering the horrible plan of returning to the station and giving an alarm, when he heard an outcry some way off. It came from higher up the road and from a hollow in it which probably hid the carriage from his eyes. The noise of its wheels had suddenly ceased. He ran towards it, came to the top of the slope, and saw the two lamps. But even as he caught sight of them he saw them swing right round. The carriage went off; there was no longer the quiet sound of a horse’s trotting but the clatter of a galloping horse, lashed to its utmost speed. Two minutes later Ralph, guided by his cries, discovered the figure of a man lying among the brambles by the side of the road.
“What’s the matter? Who are you?” cried Ralph.
“A doctor from Romillaud. The police told me to come to the railway station.”
“What’s the matter. Has some one attacked you?”
“Yes; a man on foot who asked me the way. I pulled up, and he sprang up on to the box, got me by [[62]]the throat, half-strangled me, tied me up, and threw me among the bushes!”
“And did he go off with your carriage?” asked Ralph.
“Yes.”