“Quick!” she cried, forgetting all prudence in her fear, “quick —­they are coming—­I hear some one upon the stair.  Oh, you are too late!” and, sinking upon her knees, she covered her face with her hands.  Without more ado I swung myself up, and clambered over the sill into the room beside her.  I was looking round for something that might serve me for a weapon, when my eye encountered a tall oak press, a heavy, cumbersome affair, but, save the bed, the only furniture the room possessed.  Setting my shoulder to it therefore, I began to urge it towards the door.  But it was soon apparent that I could not get it there in time, for the creeping footstep was already close outside, and, next moment, a key was softly inserted in the lock.

“Quick! hide yourself!” I whispered, over my shoulder, and, stepping back from the door to give myself room, I clenched my fists.  There was a faint creak as the key turned, the door was opened cautiously, and a man’s dim figure loomed upon the threshold.

He had advanced two or three paces on tiptoe before he discovered my presence, for the room was in shadow, and I heard his breath catch, suddenly, and hiss between his teeth; then, without a word, he sprang at me.  But as he came, I leapt aside, and my fist took him full and squarely beneath the ear.  He pitched sideways, and, falling heavily, rolled over upon his back, and lay still.

As I leaned above him, however (for the blow had been a heavy one), he uttered a groaning oath, whereupon, pinning him forthwith by the collar, I dragged him out into the passage, and, whipping the key from the lock, transferred it to the inside and locked the door.  Waiting for no more, I scrambled back through the casement, and reached up my hand to the lady.

“Come,” said I, and (almost as quickly as it takes to set it down here) she was beside me upon the roof of the porch, clinging to my arm.  Exactly how it was managed I am unable to say; all that I remember being the vision of a slender foot and ankle, and an excellently shaped leg.

Our farther descent to the ground proved much more difficult than I had supposed, but, though I could feel her trembling, my companion obeyed my whispered instructions, and yielded herself implicitly to my guidance, so that we were soon standing in the lane before the house, safe and sound except for a few rents to our garments.

“What is it?” she whispered, seeing me searching about in the grass.

“My staff,” said I, “a faithful friend; I would not lose it.”

“But they will be here in a minute—­we shall be seen.”

“I cannot lose my staff,” said I.

“Oh, hurry! hurry!” she cried, wringing her hands.  And, in a little while, having found my staff, we turned our backs upon the tavern and began to run up the lane, side by side.  As we went, came the slam of a door behind us—­a sudden clamor of voices, followed, a moment later, by the sharp report of a pistol, and, in that same fraction of time, I stumbled over some unseen obstacle, and my hat was whisked from my head.