"
"Hands are all so busy with the sugar-cane just now, ma'am, that I don't
see how they could be spared," answered Spriggs. "And tell you what,
ma'am"--as if struck with a sudden thought--"the rascal must have a
confederate that's helped him off."
"Most likely," said Mr. Travilla. "Indeed, I think it must be so. And you
need give yourself no further anxiety about him, my dear."
CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.
"Revenge at first though sweet,
Bitter erelong, back on itself recoils."
--MILTON'S PARADISE LOST.
At the instant of discharging his revolver, Jackson felt a sharp stinging
pain in his right arm, and it dropped useless at his side. He hoped he had
killed both Mr. Travilla and Elsie; but, an arrant coward and thus
disabled, did not dare to remain a moment to learn with certainty the
effect of his shot, but rushing along the veranda, threw himself over the
railing, and sliding down a pillar, by the aid of the one hand, and with
no little pain and difficulty, made off with all speed across the lawn.
But he was bleeding at so fearful a rate that he found himself compelled
to pause long enough to improvise a tourniquet by knotting his
handkerchief above the wound, tying it as tightly as he could with the
left hand aided by his teeth.
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