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Chapter 17
“Iseehim!”
Atthatthemurderergavealittle,quicklookoverhisshoulder,andbegantorun.Thenextmomenthewaslostinafringeofbirches;thenhecameoutagainontheupperside,whereIcouldseehimclimbinglikeajackanapes,forthatpartwasagainverysteep;andthenhedippedbehindashoulder,andIsawhimnomore.
AllthistimeIhadbeenrunningonmyside,andhadgotagoodwayup,whenavoicecrieduponmetostand.
Iwasattheedgeoftheupperwood,andsonow,whenIhaltedandlookedback,Isawalltheopenpartofthehillbelowme.
Thelawyerandthesheriff’sofficerwerestandingjustabovetheroad,cryingandwavingonmetocomeback;andontheirleft,thered-coats,musketinhand,werebeginningtostrugglesinglyoutofthelowerwood.
“WhyshouldIcomeback?”Icried.“Comeyouon!”
“Tenpoundsifyetakethatlad!”criedthelawyer.“He’sanaccomplice.Hewaspostedheretoholdusintalk.”
Atthatword(whichIcouldhearquiteplainly,thoughitwastothesoldiersandnottomethathewascryingit)myheartcameinmymouthwithquiteanewkindofterror.Indeed,itisonethingtostandthedangerofyourlife,andquiteanothertoruntheperilofbothlifeandcharacter.Thething,besides,hadcomesosuddenly,likethunderoutofaclearsky,thatIwasallamazedandhelpless.
Thesoldiersbegantospread,someofthemtorun,andotherstoputuptheirpiecesandcoverme;andstillIstood.
“Joukinhereamongthetrees,”saidavoicecloseby
