After a few minutes I looked back
behind me. On the dyke were only a few dark figures, but crossing
the waste, swampy ground were many more. What new danger this
portended I did not know-could only guess. Then as I ran it seemed
to me that my track kept ever sloping away to the right. I looked
up ahead and saw that the river was much wider than before, and
that the dyke on which I stood fell quite away, and beyond it was
another stream on whose near bank I saw some of the dark forms now
across the marsh. I was on an island of some kind.
My situation was now indeed terrible, for my enemies had hemmed
me in on every side. Behind came the quickening roll of the oars,
as though my pursuers knew that the end was close. Around me on
every side was desolation; there was not a roof or light, as far as
I could see. Far off to the right rose some dark mass, but what it
was I knew not. For a moment I paused to think what I should do,
not for more, for my pursuers were drawing closer. Then my mind was
made up. I slipped down the bank and took to the water. I struck
out straight ahead, so as to gain the current by clearing the
backwater of the island for such I presume it was, when I had
passed into the stream. I waited till a cloud came driving across
the moon and leaving all in darkness. Then I took off my hat and
laid it softly on the water floating with the stream, and a second
after dived to the right and struck out under water with all my
might. I was, I suppose, half a minute under water, and when I rose
came up as softly as I could, and turning, looked back. There went
my light brown hat floating merrily away. Close behind it came a
rickety old boat, driven furiously by a pair of oars. The moon was
still partly obscured by the drifting clouds, but in the partial
light I could see a man in the bows holding aloft ready to strike
what appeared to me to be that same dreadful pole-axe which I had
before escaped. As I looked the boat drew closer, closer, and the
man struck savagely. The hat disappeared. The man fell forward,
almost out of the boat. His comrades dragged him in but without the
axe, and then as I turned with all my energies bent on reaching the
further bank, I heard the fierce whirr of the muttered "Sacre!"
which marked the anger of my baffled pursuers.
That was the first sound I had heard from human lips during all
this dreadful chase, and full as it was of menace and danger to me
it was a welcome sound for it broke that awful silence which
shrouded and appalled me. It was as though an overt sign that my
opponents were men and not ghosts, and that with them I had, at
least, the chance of a man, though but one against many.
But now that the spell of silence was broken the sounds came
thick and fast. From boat to shore and back from shore to boat came
quick question and answer, all in the fiercest whispers. I looked
back-a fatal thing to do-for in the instant someone caught sight of
my face, which showed white on the dark water, and shouted. Hands
pointed to me, and in a moment or two the boat was under weigh, and
following hard after me. I had but a little way to go, but quicker
and quicker came the boat after me. A few more strokes and I would
be on the shore, but I felt the oncoming of the boat, and expected
each second to feel the crash of an oar or other weapon on my head.
Had I not seen that dreadful axe disappear in the water I do not
think that I could have won the shore. I heard the muttered curses
of those not rowing and the laboured breath of the rowers.
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