im with redoubled fury, he
obeyed the impulse of the moment and switched off the electricity as he
crept swiftly along the wall. In the darkness he stumbled to a corner,
where his labored breathing could not but betray his hiding-place. While
he crouched in the corner, making himself small, he knew Thor was
stalking him by the sound.

He was stalking him, and yet in the inky blackness of the room accurate
hunting down was difficult. It was like a duel between blind men. Thor
was moving uncertainly, pausing from second to second to fix the object
of his search.

In the mad hope of reaching the fireplace and creeping into the chimney,
Claude wriggled from his corner along the floor, keeping close to the
wainscot. As he did so he touched the legs of a footstool which
suggested its use at once. Controlling the thumping of his heart and the
pumping of his lungs as best he could, he got noiselessly to his feet.
Inch by inch, slinging the footstool by a leg, he moved toward the spot
from which Thor's panting breath seemed to proceed. If he could but
batter in that long skull he would be acquitted of responsibility on the
ground of self-defense. But he was afraid of anything that approached
the hand-to-hand. When it seemed to him that he could vaguely make out
the swaying of a figure in the darkness, he hurled the missile with all
his might--only to hear it crash into one of the covered pictures.

Claude was disappointed, and yet in the din of the shattering glass he
was able to escape again. He had lost all sense of direction. Even his
touch on the furniture didn't help him, since everything was now
displaced. Nevertheless, he continued to duck and dodge, to wriggle and
creep and elude. Once Thor's clutch was actually upon him, but he
managed to tear himself free with nothing worse than a long rent in his
shirt-sleeve. Again Thor seized him, but only to tear his collar from
the stud. A third time Thor's strong fingers were closing round his
throat, and yet after a momentary choking groan he had been able to slip
away. Never before had Claude supposed himself so strong. There was a
minute when he had felt Thor's hot breath snorting in his face, and
still was able to pick up a small, round table on which his mother
sometimes placed her tea-tray, sending it hurtling toward his pursuer,
checking him again. With a splutter of stifled oaths, Thor grasped the
piece of furniture, throwing it violently back. Claude rejoiced as it
cr