The Broad Highway

"It was you!" I cried, kneeling beside him," it was your hand

that shot Sir Maurice Vibart?"

"Yes," he answered, his voice growing very gentle as he went on,

"for Angela's sake--my dead wife," and, fumbling in his pocket,

he drew out a woman's small, lace-edged handkerchief, and I saw

that it was thickened and black with blood. "This was hers," be

continued, "in her hand, the night she died--I had meant to lay

it on her grave--the blood of atonement--but now--"

A sudden crash in the hedge above; a figure silhouetted against

the sky; a shadowy arm, that, falling, struck the moon out of

heaven, and, in the darkness, I was down upon my knees, and

fingers were upon my throat.

"Oh, Darby!" cried a voice, "I've got him--this way--quick--oh,

Darb--" My fist drove into his ribs; I struggled up under a

rain of blows, and we struck and swayed and staggered and struck

--trampling the groaning wretch who lay dying in the ditch. And

before me was the pale oval of a face, and I smote it twice with

my pistol-butt, and it was gone, and I--was running along the

road.

"Charmian spoke truth! O God, I thank thee!"

I burst through a hedge, running on, and on--careless alike of

being seen, of capture or escape, of prison or freedom, for in my

heart was a great joy.

I was conscious of shouts and cries, but I heeded them no more,

listening only to the song of happiness my heart was singing: "Charmian spoke truth, her hands are clean. O God, I thank

thee!"

And, as I went, I presently espied a caravan, and before it a

fire of sticks, above which a man was bending, who, raising his

head, stared at me as I approached. He was a strange-looking

man, who glared at me with one eye and leered jocosely with the

other; and, being spent and short of breath, I stopped, and

wiping the sweat from my eyes I saw that it was blood.

"How--is Lewis?" I panted.

"What," exclaimed the man, drawing nearer, "is it you?--James!

but you're a picter, you are--hallo!" he stopped, as his glance

encountered the steel that glittered upon my wrist; while upon

the silence the shouts swelled, drawing near and nearer.

"So--the Runners is arter you, are they, young feller?"

"Yes," said I; "yes. You have only to cry out, and they will

take me, for I can fight no more, nor run any farther; this knock

on the head has made me very dizzy."