"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.




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