all was darkness.

"Stand back, whoever you are, or I must fire!" he shouted, at the same
time leaping on one side, away from the spot where he had been lying.

There was the sound of feet, as if a person was springing over the
ground, a shriek, and the crash of a weapon descending. Yes, he was
certain it had struck his saddle-bags. The next instant, the wood
igniting on the fire, a flame burst forth, revealing the figure of the
maniac retreating across the glade in the direction of the old tree,
where he had at first appeared. He must have just reached it when
another flash of lightning came down in a zigzag course from the very
clouds overhead. It struck the huge tree, which was riven into several
portions, and its knotted limbs scattered around. The thunder at the
same moment crashed and rattled with almost terrific sound. He seized
the tether rope of his horse, as the animal, having torn the pin from
the ground, was about to dash off through the forest. The poor creature
stood as his hand stroked its head, but trembled violently. He brought
it up to the fire, looking round as he did so for his late assailant,
but the maniac was nowhere to be seen. He had the greatest difficulty
in keeping his horse quiet; for the storm continued raging as before,
the rain came down in torrents, the wind howled and whistled, and the
lightning flashed; the thunder roared and rattled, and the rending of
boughs, and the crashing of falling trees was heard on every side,
warning him of the danger of attempting to pass among them. As may be
supposed, he did not again lie down: having saddled his horse and thrown
his blanket over his shoulders, he employed the time in quieting the
animal, throwing wood on his fire, and keeping a vigilant watch for the
approach of the maniac. The most weary night must have an end. The
storm ceased completely; the dawn came at last. He looked around. The
sight which most attracted his attention was the blackened stump of that
huge tree which had stood there the previous evening--the monarch of the
forest glade. He approached it. Under one of the limbs lay a human
form--it was the maniac's body; life was extinct. He examined the
features. There could be no mistake; though haggard by starvation and
exposure, and distorted by his violent death, he recognised them as
those of the former overseer of Warragong, the outlaw Basham. A small
black mark on one side of his head showed that he had been