"Give it me," he gasped, "or I will upset the boat!" And, seizing her by
the shoulder, he reached over her, striving to take hold of the packet
which she held behind her. The boat rocked; and, as much in rage as
fear, she screamed.
A cry uttered wholly in rage answered hers; it came from Carlat. La
Tribe, however, whose whole mind was fixed on the packet, did not heed,
nor would have heeded, the steward. But the next moment a second cry,
fierce as that of a wild beast, clove the air from the lower and farther
bank; and the Huguenot, recognizing Count Hannibal's voice, involuntarily
desisted and stood erect. A moment the boat rocked perilously under him;
then--for unheeded it had been drifting that way--it softly touched the
bank on which Carlat stood staring and aghast.
La Tribe's chance was gone; he saw that the steward must reach him before
he could succeed in a second attempt. On the other hand, the undergrowth
on the bank was thick, he could touch it with his hand, and if he fled at
once he might escape.
He hung an instant irresolute; then, with a look which went to the
Countess's heart, he sprang ashore, plunged among the alders, and in a
moment was gone.
"After him! After him!" thundered Count Hannibal. "After him, man!" and
Carlat, stumbling down the steep slope and through the rough briars, did
his best to obey. But in vain. Before he reached the water's edge, the
noise of the fugitive's retreat had grown faint. A few seconds and it
died away.