He threw away the weapon, went lunging along the wall. I followed, took him by the shoulder.
“Maryvale—”
But he thrust me off, violently, and began to run. I fell with my knee against a stone, and when I arose my chagrin was great, for apart from the pain my leg had gone almost dead, and I could scarcely hobble. Maryvale had found a gap between the stones, leaped through, and charged down the Vale. When I had managed to drag myself out from the enclosure, he was beyond sight and hearing. I shouted his name many times; no answer came back.
I knew that lamed as I was I must get down the Vale as soon as possible, for there was no telling what the man might do in this demented state. He might even have another gun.
The cat the incarnation of Parson Lolly! Then the realization leaped on me. What would they say, those in the House, when they were told that none of the three bullets had done the beast any harm!
So stunned I was by this lightning-stroke that without knowing what I did or being aware of my injured knee, I walked on with my brain in a storm of confusion. When, some time later, I was rid of the shock, but still wondering, I had gone half a mile and my knee was almost painless.
I commenced to run.
Ten minutes late I encountered Doctor Aire, who fell in beside me while I gasped what had happened.
“I was a fool,” he panted. “Fool to leave him alone with you. He was excited—upset—I saw—that when you were telling—that story down by the cottage. You’ll have to—go on alone. I can’t—keep up.”
He dropped behind, and the last thing I heard him say was, “I couldn’t foresee—a miracle.”