Then it was that, as though it were some picture on the clouds, she saw faces of children, hundreds of faces, cute Chinese children, and above them all, resolute, determined, hopeful, the serious face of Erik Nord, the white man from China.
“Ah! Now I have you!” Was it she who thought this? Or was it Erik Nord thinking through her? She did not pause for an answer. Instead, she sprang squarely at the crouching figure.
Her plan, if she might be said to have one, was to snatch the precious three-bladed knife from beneath his long coat, then to run for it.
In this she failed. With a panther-like spring, the yellow man eluded her. Then, perceiving perhaps that escape was impossible, he took the offensive.
He did not draw the knife. There was not time. Then, too, it was for demons, not for men, nor for girls either. Instead, with a leap and the swing of an arm he encircled her neck in such a vice-like grip that for a space of ten seconds she was helpless.
“You shall give the bell!” he hissed. “The bell and the banners you shall give!”
Too close to the point of strangulation to reply or so much as think clearly, she placed her hands against his chest, then suddenly threw all her superb strength into one tremendous thrust.
Did she hear a bone crack in his wrist? Was her own neck being broken?
For a space of seconds, with head ready to burst, she could not tell. Then, with a sighing groan the intruder relaxed his hold and all but fell to the ground.
Following up this advantage she fell toward him in such a manner as to start him rolling down the hill. And then, all in a flash, she caught a gleam of white on the grass at her feet.