He threw a handkerchief round her head and knotted it across her mouth to form a gag. Then he took her up in his arms and carried her away.
She was slight and hardly weighed anything at all. He was a strong man. His burden seemed light. Nevertheless as he came to the breach in the wall and perceived the almost vertical descent worn by storms in the lower part of it, he studied it carefully and decided that it was necessary to take precautions. Therefore he set Aurelie down at the edge of the breach.
Was she waiting for him to make this mistake? Was it a sudden inspiration? In any case his carelessness was at once punished. With an unexpected movement and with a swiftness and decision which took him aback, she tore the handkerchief from her mouth, and without caring what happened, let herself slide from the top to the bottom, like a loosened stone which rolls with an avalanche of pebbles and sand from which rises a cloud of dust.
Recovering from his surprise he dashed after her at [[149]]the risk of falling, and perceived that she was running at haphazard in a zigzag course from the cliff to the bank of the pool, like a hunted beast that does not know which way to fly.
“You’re lost, my dear,” he muttered. “There’s nothing for you to do but bend the knee.”
He had almost caught her, and she was tottering and staggering with fear, when he had an impression that something fell from the top of the terrace and struck the ground near him. He turned, saw a man coming at full speed, the lower part of his face masked by a handkerchief. It must be the man he had called Aurelie’s lover. He had time to grip his revolver, but not time to use it. A kick from this adversary, the kick of an expert savage fighter, caught him full in the chest and sent him flying into the sticky swamp on the edge of the pool. He sank, then rose, spluttering, to his feet, up to his knees in the mud. Furious and staggering, he aimed at Ralph, who, no more than twenty yards away, was lifting the girl into the boat.
“Stop! Or I’ll fire!” shouted Marescal.
Ralph did not answer. He caught up a rotting plank, rested it on a thwart like a protecting shield between Aurelie and himself and the revolver, then pushed off the boat with a vigorous shove which sent it dancing over the waves. Marescal fired. He fired six times, raging and furious. But, slipping about as he was in the ooze, the bullets went wild. Then, he whistled [[150]]more shrilly than before. The two men on the other shore sprang up from their lairs, like jacks-in-the-box.
Ralph found himself in the middle of the pool, about thirty yards, that is, from the opposite bank.
“Don’t shoot!” yelled Marescal.