Roddy, weakened and ill, fought for his life, and gradually succeeded in getting his opponent towards the door. He fell and rolled in the dust, but the young fellow would not release his hold. The open door was before him and he was determined to escape.
Twice he was near it and endeavoured to throw off his captor, but old Claribut always kept with him and held him by the throat until he was nearly choked.
Roddy again struggled to his feet, and with both hands at Claribut’s throat at last had the advantage. He saw the man’s face purple and his eyes starting. He was close to the door, and if he could only cast the choking man from him he could escape.
He drew a long breath for a last frantic effort, but as he did so, Claribut, who had succeeded in drawing a lead-weighted life-preserver from his pocket, raised it and brought it down with crashing force upon the young man’s skull.
And Roddy Homfray fell like a log upon the stones.
Chapter Twenty Seven.
The Death-Trap.
When Roddy again became conscious of his surroundings he found himself lying in a corner of the place, so weak that he was scarcely able to move his arms. His head was throbbing, and placing his hand upon it, he found himself suffering from a long scalp wound.