he bounced upright from the settle, with a horrible scream, his hands
fencing, clawing at air.

The prisoner dropped back with a laugh. Mr. Goodfellow, at a choking
sound, put out a hand to loosen Captain Coffin's neckcloth; but the
old man beat him off.

"Not you! Not you! Harry!"

He gripped me by the arm, and, ducking his head, fairly charged me
past the 'longshoremen and out through the doorway into the street.
As we gained it I heard the stranger in the taproom behind me break
into a high, cackling laugh.



CHAPTER VIII.


THE HUNTED AND THE HUNTER.

All the drunkenness had gone out of Captain Danny. Gripping my arm,
he steered me rapidly through the knots of loafers, up Market Strand
into the crowded Fore Street, across it and up the hill towards open
country, taking the ascent with long strides which forced me now and
again into a run. Twice or thrice I glanced up at his face, for I
was scared, and badly scared. His mouth worked, and I observed small
beads of sweat on his shaven upper lip; but he kept his eyes fastened
straight ahead, and paid no heed to me.