It was Jane, moving slowly and painfully. He held up the light.
"What are you doing here, lass? Where is he?" asked Tom.
She stumbled upon him, knocking the lantern from his hand. She had fainted. He laid her gently down and picked up the light, holding it to her face. There was a cut on her forehead; he wiped the blood away, saw it was not serious. She came round quickly. He helped her to her feet.
"How came you here?" he asked.
"Carl came to the cottage. He forced me to go with him. He had a car—he meant to kill me—it was his life or mine," she said, shivering.
"Where is he?" asked Tom.
"In the moat."
He was bewildered, did not understand. Jane could not have pushed him into the water.
She explained hurriedly; he listened wonderingly. She was plucky, had run a great risk. He gave no thought to the man.
"I jumped out and fell on the grass. He seemed to lose his head; the car rushed on—I heard nothing more," she said.