CHAPTER VIII

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*A Fight for Life*

Click!--click! went both our pistol locks together, and, an instant later, two shots rang out as one. Nor was there much to choose between the aims. Tubal Ammon's bullet grazed my right side beneath the arm-pit; while mine went smash into his money-bag, and ripping it, brought forth a stream of coins which jingled thick and fast upon the ground. Had it not been for this protection, it had most surely been a stream of blood instead, for he had held the bag pressed tightly to his side. Strange that gold should save the life of one who had but just been bartering life for gold!

Again, had it not been for that wild, chancy shot at Ferguson I might have had friend Tubal now, for, instead of fleeing, he dropped straight down and grovelled in the gold, filling his pockets with it while he muttered oaths and curses terrible to hear. Doubtless greed held him as its own just then, for though my second pistol had been fired, he must have known he ran great risk; and indeed I might have got him with my sword before he could have saved himself. But the truth is, that the pistol flashes had discovered that which for the nonce made Tubal Ammon seem of small account. The Black Box, bound with cord, lay there straight below me on the turf, dropped or for gotten, as I judged it, by the chaplain in his terror-stricken flight.

Down I jumped into the hollow, and having seized my prize, was up again before you could have counted ten.

Having stuffed the precious thing into my pocket, I stood upon the ridge and once more looked at Ammon. He had risen and gone back a little; thus much I could make out but nothing more, for now he was wellnigh invisible. Dead, awful silence followed, and for the first time since leaving home I felt afraid; afraid, that is, because I could not see this murderous villain clearly, because he was now but a lurking, threatening shadow in the darkness. But just as I was thinking swiftly whether to speed home with what I had so luckily secured, or draw my sword and try to end the mischief-working fellow's life, the heavy westward clouds behind me broke; the moon burst forth; and, in a moment, we were made plain to one another.

There, stiff and straight, stood Tubal Ammon with his hands behind him, as motionless as though he had been carved in cold grey stone. The moon shone full upon his yellow, wrinkled face, and, seen by that ghostly light, he was, indeed, as much like Satan as a man could be. The very gold-pieces, glistening here and there, deep red, among the grass, were to my startled fancy as great drops of blood.

Thus, for the second time within the rounding of the clock, did I and Tubal Ammon face each other; and 'tis small wonder that I, stiff as he, stared at him like one spell-bound. And as I stared, I remember wondering vaguely what had possessed him to remain thus, when he might easily have fled to safety in the dark-ness. Surely not the gold, for he had gathered most of that! What, then? Well, I was very soon to know.

Meanwhile the silence grew appalling, unsupportable. It must be broken.

"Once more!" I shouted.

"Once more," he answered, though in a voice so low and still as barely moved his lips.

"What would you have?" I asked, scarce knowing what I said.

Another silence followed, and then two words came hissing through it like a knife-thrust:

"Your life!"

Although this was no news to me, the utterance of it thus was something of a shock. A threat made face to face gains ugly meaning, especially from such a man as he who stood before me. I paused a moment, then said, slowly:

"Yes, truly, you would kill me and my father also. I am forewarned of that. For, look you, Tubal Ammon, all your foul plans are known to me. I have been listening long enough to hear them one and all."

At that he gave a little start, so small as scarcely to be noticed, then murmured:

"Ah! 'twas well done, friend, well, indeed!"

"Well or ill, 'twas done!" I answered hotly; "and now, listen, thou wicked, murderous jail-bird: before this time to-morrow, the law shall have both you and your accursed master by the heels."

"Ah, say you so?" quoth Tubal Ammon, with a mocking grin. "Well, now, the law is what I take no great account of. It may be well enough for some; but me it neither helps nor hinders, therefore, I say, it comes not in my reckoning."

"That being so," I thundered, whipping out my sword, "I will dispense with it and settle with you now!"

With that I sprang into the hollow bent on killing him, but even as I did so, his hands came from behind him, and in them I beheld the little bow with one of its poisoned arrows ready fitted to the string.

"Stop!" said he. "I give thee warning. Truly this will not carry far, some twenty paces maybe; but come against me and I will promise thee sure death within an hour. Go back, or die! Which shall it be, friend? Choose!"

I did so instantly; for this was like waging warfare with the devil, not with man. Shuddering with horror I leapt back to the crest and once more faced my enemy.

"You have chosen wisely, friend," said he.

"I have chosen as a man must choose when matched against a cruel, murderous demon such as you," I answered.

"Well, now, there is some truth in that," replied the shameless knave.

"Yes, but more in this," I put in fiercely. "Listen Tubal Ammon, limb of Satan, as you surely are! Standing here I utterly defy you, dare you, as an honest man may dare the devil! Do your worst or best, I care not! Nay, I flout both you and your accursed master with those murderous plans which I have overheard this night. I care no more for them or you than that!"

Here I shook my sword at him, and having sheathed it with a loud, emphatic smack, turned and strode down the bank and made for home.

That I was far from easy as to what lay behind me needs no saying, and doubtless it was this that made me hurry when I reached the level ground. Hurry, at least, I did, with long, quick strides; and thus, with a moon to light the way, I should have reached The Havering (whose chimneys rose above the distant trees) in no time, but for the wicked wiles of Tubal Ammon.

I had left him standing, bow in hand, when I turned my back upon the ridge; and it seemed to me assured that ere he moved he would gather up the gold that yet remained strewn upon the grass: so much seemed certain in a man so greedy, and, by way of proving it, I more than once glanced cautiously behind me.

I had thus gone perhaps a hundred yards, when suddenly I heard what sounded like the gentle clink of coins.

Turning, I drew my sword and looked back, listening carefully, but there was nothing to be seen or heard. The night was still as death, and so, perhaps, thought I, the sound of Ammon gathering up his gold had carried thus far.

At any rate, I saw no reason for alarm, and therefore, with my sword still drawn in readiness, strode on again a little quicker.

Another dozen yards or so, then--chink! chink! chink! Yes, there could be no doubt about it; and 'twas nearer this time.

Remembering my experience with the oak tree, I went on a few more steps as though unheeding, then turned sharply round. The plan succeeded well; for there, sure enough, some fifty yards away, I saw a head pop down behind a gorse bush.

And then, as in a flash, I saw it all. This was Tubal Ammon's latest plan for dealing death; this was why he had remained and waited, and allowed me to depart, as it appeared, without the least concern. I understood. He had meant to follow me in stealth--to creep upon me from behind, and shoot me in the back!

On realizing this I broke out in a sweat of fear and horror. I am no coward, and vow that had it been a clean, straight sword-fight, man to man, I would have waited for my foe without a qualm. But to be done to death in that heathenish and most atrocious fashion was utterly beyond me. I could not face it. Sheathing my sword I turned and fled for my very life.

A low, fierce cry, and the pad of swiftly-running feet broke out behind. Ammon was after me. Taking a quick, back shoulder glance, I saw him coming like the wind. His feet seemed scarce to touch the ground. It was as though the Evil One himself were in pursuit. Never before, I trow, had such a breathless race 'twixt life and death gone forward on those ancient, wave-washed cliffs.

Putting forth all the strength and length of limb which God had given me, I strove to win, but all in vain. The light-toed villain gained upon me every yard, the clink of gold grew nearer, louder, every moment, until there could not have been twenty yards between us, and I could even hear his hissing breath. At any moment now the poisonous prick might come. The thought was unendurable. Better turn round and face sure death than wait for it to strike me from behind, I knew not when.

With this thought in my head, I leapt aside, and such was Ammon's speed that he had gone flying past a good ten yards ere he could stop himself; then, as he turned, I drew my sword out and rushed at him. But he was all too quick for me; with one great, cat-like spring, he saved himself, so that my upraised weapon clave the air: then, as I turned to face him, I saw his evil eye beyond the little bow as he took a hurried, deadly aim.

Hiss! the murderous arrow struck me full in the breast and quivered there, while by the sound of it, it had cut clean through to the bone.

I felt no pain--nay, not a prick--and yet, so certain was I that a slow and hideous death would surely follow, that in the terror of that awful moment my strength seemed to forsake me, my sword fell to the ground, and thus I stood and stared at Tubal Ammon, as some dumb stricken beast might at the giver of its death-blow. I saw his drooping eyelids rise and fall, his body quivered for a moment, then, with a ravening cry, he sprang upon me.

So fierce and sudden was his rush that I had no chance to pick my sword up, and as he leapt upon me I was driven staggering backwards for a yard or two. Then such a fight began beneath that staring moon as makes me shudder when I think upon it.

[Illustration: "THEN SUCH A FIGHT BEGAN AS MAKES ME SHUDDER WHEN I THINK UPON IT"]

My strength must have been three times that of Ammon's in the way of common wrestling, but so close and snake-like were his methods that from the first he had the best of it. His legs and arms wound round me like the tentacles of an octopus, every moment tightening with a crushing, suffocating power.

In vain I struck and tore and wrenched: he seemed to have no flesh to bruise, no bones to break; a thing of steel and hide had not been more impervious to blows. His fetid breath was on my face, his cruel eyes were close to mine; it was a very nightmare of a fight, in which all skill and knowledge counted for nothing and were powerless to avail.

Thus to and fro we swayed like one, first this way and then that, until my strength and breath began to fail by reason of the hopeless, stifling struggle. With one last desperate wrench I tried in vain to cast the clinging demon from me. His bony hand shot out and gripped me by the throat, his left leg wound about my right, I staggered for a moment, then fell crashing backward. My head struck something hard, the moon shot zigzag down the sky, and with it went the grinning face of Tubal Ammon. Black darkness followed.

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