I heard them, for I durst not look; and could scarce keep still for trembling—­I heard them trampling outside the gap, uncertain which track they should follow.  And in that fearful moment, with my soul almost looking out of my body, expecting notice to quit it, what do you think I did?  I counted the threads in a spider’s web, and the flies he had lately eaten, as their skeletons shook in the twilight.

“We shall see him better in there,” said Carver, in his horrible gruff voice, like the creaking of the gallows chain; “sit there, behind holly hedge, lads, while he cometh down yonder hill; and then our good-evening to him; one at his body, and two at his head; and good aim, lest we baulk the devil.”

“I tell you, captain, that will not do,” said Charlie, almost whispering:  “you are very proud of your skill, we know, and can hit a lark if you see it:  but he may not come until after dark, and we cannot be too nigh to him.  This holly hedge is too far away.  He crosses down here from Slocomslade, not from Tibbacot, I tell you; but along that track to the left there, and so by the foreland to Glenthorne, where his boat is in the cove.  Do you think I have tracked him so many evenings, without knowing his line to a hair?  Will you fool away all my trouble?”

“Come then, lad, we will follow thy lead.  Thy life for his, if we fail of it.”

“After me then, right into the hollow; thy legs are growing stiff, captain.”

“So shall thy body be, young man, if thou leadest me astray in this.”

I heard them stumbling down the hill, which was steep and rocky in that part; and peering through the hedge, I saw them enter a covert, by the side of the track which Master Stickles followed, almost every evening, when he left our house upon business.  And then I knew who it was they were come on purpose to murder—­a thing which I might have guessed long before, but for terror and cold stupidity.

“Oh that God,” I thought for a moment, waiting for my blood to flow; “Oh that God had given me brains, to meet such cruel dastards according to their villainy!  The power to lie, and the love of it; the stealth to spy, and the glory in it; above all, the quiet relish for blood, and joy in the death of an enemy—­these are what any man must have, to contend with the Doones upon even terms.  And yet, I thank God that I have not any of these.”

It was no time to dwell upon that, only to try, if might be, to prevent the crime they were bound upon.  To follow the armed men down the hill would have been certain death to me, because there was no covert there, and the last light hung upon it.  It seemed to me that my only chance to stop the mischief pending was to compass the round of the hill, as fast as feet could be laid to ground; only keeping out of sight from the valley, and then down the rocks, and across the brook, to the track from Slocombslade:  so as to stop the King’s messenger from travelling any farther, if only I could catch him there.