Nor did Lester Vane fear he should fail to remember the features of one whom he instantly perceived was strikingly handsome and no common personage.
He found his strength failing him, that Hugh would succeed in releasing himself from his custody, and he shouted loudly for help. The next instant he received a tremendous blow upon the temple, and was hurled to the ground with such force as to compel him to remain there stunned and insensible. Hugh cast a glance upon him as he lay motionless upon the gravel path.
“I have seen that face in a dream.” he muttered; “mine enemy from henceforward. We have for the first time crossed each other’s path—we shall again. Woe to him who stumbles on it!”
The sounds of persons running along the garden walk caught his ear at this moment. Servants, roused by the shouts of Lester Vane, were hastening to his assistance. Hugh plunged into the thicket, vaulted over the iron fencing upon the edge of the ornamental waters, plunged into the winding canal, and swimming briskly but noiselessly beneath the shadows of some weeping willows, continued his progress until he reached a bend of the stream, not visible from Mr. Grahame’s garden; and then, emerging from the water, he disappeared among the thick cluster of trees which there lined its banks.
In the meanwhile, the form of Lester Vane, lying insensible, was discovered by two or three male servants, under the direction of Whelks. During the race from the house, he was absolutely last in it, but on finding that there was no enemy to encounter, he exhibited the most reckless display of daring, and rushed to the front.
Directly his pale green eyes fell upon the prostrate form of Mr. Grahame’s guest, he exclaimed—
“Oh, my ’evens! if it isn’t the ’onerbbel Mr. Lester Wane! Grashus! Is it the wine ’es overcom ’im, I wonder?”
“No,” said one of the servants, “he’s got a hugly bump on his forrid; a precious whack that! Somebody about here must ha’ given it him.”
“Some owdashus thief, no doubt,” suggested Whelks, with a swift glance over his left shoulder at the clump of trees, and a shudder which lifted his scalp, and pained him in the heels. “Jackson,” he added, quickly to the man who had just spoken, “you ’elp me to carry Mr. Lester Wane’s corpse—if he is a corpse—into the ’ouse, and you, Cussinks,” he continued, addressing the other servant, “you dash into that clump o’ trees, and ’unt about for the beggler.”
Whelks and Jackson hurried on with their burden, and “Cussinks,” declining the verb to search proposed by Whelks, sallied out for that gallant official, the policeman, who is supposed to know no fear, and to be ever ready to seize the most ferocious ruffian in existence with the same promptness with which he would attack cold mutton down a deep area.