I moved a few more steps on; and in a few more, Susan and I would both be out of sight of that fallen tree.
‘There is a much better one here,’ I said, keeping my face well averted, for I felt if she looked at me she would see its ashy paleness.
‘Where?’ she asked. ‘Wait a minute, and I’ll come for it.’ To my horror, she retraced her steps towards her heap of ferns, and carefully counted them, whilst I waited in a state of terror words cannot describe. But she came at last, and I tottered with her round the fateful corner.
‘Don’t be frightened,’ I said; ‘but come quickly; ask no questions. Do as I tell you, Susan.’
She paused, affrighted. ‘Good gracious, Helen, have you seen a wild beast?’
‘Worse,’ I murmured. ‘Do not run, but lose no time.’
I ventured to glance behind. Nothing was visible; but every moment was precious; we must reach the pony-trap and Tom. Once all together, the convict would surely not venture to attack us, and I knew that being on the high-road, alone would in itself insure our safety. But we had not reached it yet; a long rough narrow path had to be traversed. If the man suspected we had seen him, nothing would be easier than for him to overtake us and make short work of us. I thought of Jack, of Rose, of my happy life. Everything seemed to float through my mind as I half led, half dragged Susan after me. We had gone perhaps a shade more than half-way, when I once more turned round, in the distance, on the path over which we had just passed. To my unutterable consternation, I beheld the convict hurrying towards us.
‘Run, Susan!’ I panted—‘run for your life!’
Another twist in the road hid us momentarily from his sight; but I knew he was after us, running now as fast as, or perhaps a good deal faster than we were, though we were now both of us flying along at a pace which only the peril we were in could have enabled us to sustain.
‘For your life!’ I repeated. ‘Run, Susan!’