rude
path lay through it,--I saw a light in the old sluice-house. I quickened
my pace, and knocked at the door with my hand. Waiting for some reply,
I looked about me, noticing how the sluice was abandoned and broken, and
how the house--of wood with a tiled roof--would not be proof against the
weather much longer, if it were so even now, and how the mud and ooze
were coated with lime, and how the choking vapor of the kiln crept in a
ghostly way towards me. Still there was no answer, and I knocked again.
No answer still, and I tried the latch.

It rose under my hand, and the door yielded. Looking in, I saw a lighted
candle on a table, a bench, and a mattress on a truckle bedstead. As
there was a loft above, I called, "Is there any one here?" but no voice
answered. Then I looked at my watch, and, finding that it was past nine,
called again, "Is there any one here?" There being still no answer, I
went out at the door, irresolute what to do.

It was beginning to rain fast. Seeing nothing save what I had seen
already, I turned back into the house, and stood just within the shelter
of the doorway, looking out into the night. While I was considering that
some one must have been there lately and must soon be coming back, or
the candle would not be burning, it came into my head to look if the
wick were long. I turned round to do so, and had taken up the candle in
my hand, when it was extinguished by some violent shock; and the next
thing I comprehended was, that I had been caught in a strong running
noose, thrown over my head from behind.

"Now," said a suppressed voice with an oath, "I've got you!"

"What is this?" I cried, struggling. "Who is it? Help, help, help!"

Not only were my arms pulled close to my sides, but the pressure on
my bad arm caused me exquisite pain. Sometimes, a strong man's hand,
sometimes a strong man's breast, was set against my mouth to deaden
my cries, and with a hot breath always close to me, I struggled
ineffectually in the dark, while I was fastened tight to the wall. "And
now," said the suppressed voice with another oath, "call out again, and
I'll make short work of you!"

Faint and sick with the pain of my injured arm, bewildered by the
surprise, and yet conscious how easily this threat could be put in
execution, I desisted, and tried to ease my arm were it ever so little.
But, it was bound too tight for that. I felt as if, having been burnt
before, it were now being boiled.

The sudden ex