Something was crouching and shivering at my side. I found it was
Elspeth, whose courage was no match for the terrors of the heavens. She
snuggled against me for companionship, and hid her face in the sleeve
of my coat.

Suddenly came a cry from Shalah on my left. He pointed his hand to the
glade, and in it I saw a man running. A new burst of light sprang up,
for some dry tindery creepers had caught fire, and were blazing to
heaven. It lit a stumbling figure which I saw was Grey, and behind him
was a lithe Indian running on his trail.

"Open the gate," I cried, and I got my musket in the loophole.

The fugitive was all but spent. He ran, bowed almost to the ground,
with a wild back glance ever and again over his shoulder. His pursuer
gained on him with great strides, and in his hand he carried a bare
knife. I dared not shoot, for Grey was between me and his enemy.

'Twas as well I could not, for otherwise Grey would never have reached
us alive. We cried to him to swerve, and the sound of our voices
brought up that last flicker of hope which waits till the end in every
man. He seemed actually to gain a yard, and now he was near enough for
us to see his white face and staring eyes. Then he stumbled, and the
man with the knife was almost on him. But he found his feet again, and
swerved like a hunted hare in one desperate bound. This gave me my
chance: my musket cracked, and the Indian pitched quietly to the
ground. The knife flew out of his hand and almost touched Grey's heel.

With the sound Shalah had leaped from the gate, picked up Grey like a