again till I came above the boulder behind
which the assassin probably lurked. Once I fancied I heard the clatter
of the hoofs very near; and once, on the hill before me, I seemed to
catch the gleam of a gun-barrel among the rocks.

A minute more brought me in view of the boulder and the road below.
Stretched on the former, with his gun levelled, lay Corkill, waiting the
moment when his victim should reach the corner. On the road, still
toiling up the hill, came the gig, and to my horror and dismay, not only
his honour in it, but Miss Kit herself.

Even in that moment of terror I could not help noticing how beautiful
she looked, her face intent on the horse she was driving as she sat,
inclined a little forward, gently coaxing him up the hill. His honour,
aged and haggard, leaned back in his seat, glancing uneasily now and
then at the rocks on either side, and now and then uttering an impatient
"tchk" at the panting animal.

I had barely time to whip out my ship's pistol from my belt--luckily
already loaded--and level it at the assassin. Almost at the instant of
my discharge his gun went off; and in the moment of silence that
followed, I heard the horse start at a gallop along the level road.

Paddy lay on his face, hit in the shoulder, but not, as I judged by his
kicking, fatally so. I was less concerned about him than about the
occupants of the gig. As far as I could see, looking after them,
neither was hurt, and the assassin's gun must have gone off harmlessly
in the air. The horse, who seemed to know what all this meant as well
as any one, raced for his life, and I was expecting to see the gig
disappear round the turn, unless it overturned first, when a huge stone
rolled down on to the road a few yards ahead, and brought the animal up
on his haunches with such suddenness that the two travellers were almost
pitched from their seats.

At the same moment two men, armed with clubs, leaped on to the road, one
making for the horse's head, the other for the step.

All this took less time to happen than it takes me to tell it, and
before the gig actually came to a standstill I was rushing along the
road to the spot. My discharged pistol was in my hand, but I had no
time to reload. I flung myself at the man on the step just as he raised
his club, and sending him sprawling on to the road, levelled my weapon
at his head.

"Move, and you're a dead man!" said I.

Then turning to his honour, I thrust the pistol i