"A snail," I said at last; for I had heard that these animals make
a noise somewhat similar in character.
"Snail be d-d!" said Northmour. "Hush!"
The same sound was repeated twice at regular intervals; and then a
formidable voice shouted through the shutters the Italian word
"TRADITORE!"
Mr. Huddlestone threw his head in the air; his eyelids quivered;
next moment he fell insensible below the table. Northmour and I
had each run to the armoury and seized a gun. Clara was on her
feet with her hand at her throat.
So we stood waiting, for we thought the hour of attack was
certainly come; but second passed after second, and all but the
surf remained silent in the neighbourhood of the pavilion.
"Quick," said Northmour; "upstairs with him before they come."
CHAPTER VIII - TELLS THE LAST OF THE TALL MAN
Somehow or other, by hook and crook, and between the three of us,
we got Bernard Huddlestone bundled upstairs and laid upon the bed
in MY UNCLE'S ROOM. During the whole process, which was rough
enough, he gave no sign of consciousness, and he remained, as we
had thrown him, without changing the position of a finger. His
daughter opened his shirt and began to wet his head and bosom;
while Northmour and I ran to the window. The weather continued
clear; the moon, which was now about full, had risen and shed a
very clear light upon the links; yet, strain our eyes as we might,
we could distinguish nothing moving.
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