Breathing heavily, I crammed my extinguished briar into my pocket — re-charged the empty chamber of the revolver — and started to run again toward a light that showed over the treetops to my left.
That, if the man's directions were right, was "Uplands" — if his directions were wrong — then…
A shrill whistle — minor, eerie, in rising cadence — sounded on the dead silence with piercing clearness! Six whistles — seemingly from all around me — replied!
Some object came humming through the air, and I ducked wildly.
On and on I ran — flying from an unknown, but, as a warning instinct told me, deadly peril — ran as a man runs pursued by devils.
The road bent sharply to the left then forked. Overhanging trees concealed the house, and the light, though high up under the eaves, was no longer visible. Trusting to Providence to guide me, I plunged down the lane that turned to the left, and, almost exhausted, saw the gates before me — saw the sweep of the drive, and the moonlight, gleaming on the windows!
None of the windows were illuminated.
Straight up to the iron gates I raced.
They were locked!
Without a moment's hesitation I hurled my grip over the top and clambered up the bars! As I got astride, from the blackness of the lane came the ominous hum, and my hat went spinning away across the lawn! — the black cloud veiled the moon and complete darkness fell.