I made a rush at the stairs. A burly form (that of the landlord, who
had recovered from my blow) obstructed my way for a moment, to measure
its length on the floor at the next. I was at the top of the stairs;
Peacock recognized me, recoiled, and extinguished the light. Oaths,
cries, and shrieks now resounded through the dark. Amidst them all I
suddenly heard a voice exclaim, "Here, here! help!" It was the voice of
Fanny. I made my way to the right, whence the voice came, and received
a violent blow. Fortunately it fell on the arm which I extended, as men
do who feel their way through the dark. It was not the right arm, and I
seized and closed on my assailant. Roland now came up, a candle in his
hand; and at that sight my antagonist, who was no other than Peacock,
slipped from me and made a rush at the stairs. But the Captain caught
him with his grasp of iron. Fearing nothing for Roland in a contest
with any single foe, and all my thoughts bent on the rescue of her whose
voice again broke on my ear, I had already (before the light of the
candle which Roland held went out in the struggle between himself and
Peacock) caught sight of a door at the end of the passage, and thrown
myself against it: it was locked, but it shook and groaned to my
pressure.

"Hold back, whoever you are," cried a voice from the room within, far
different from that wail of distress which had guided my steps. "Hold
back at the peril of your life!"

The voice, the threat, redoubled my strength: the door flew from its
fastenings. I stood in the room. I saw Fanny at my feet, clasping my
hands; then raising herself, she hung on my shoulder and murmured
"Saved!" Opposite to me, his face deformed by passion, his eyes
literally blazing with savage fire, his nostrils distended, his lips