I hadn't gone many yards before I was arrested by the faintest sound of footsteps in front of me. Immediately my mind filled with thoughts of the officers. They were lurking there for me. I stood still and listened. I wasn't mistaken. The sound was repeated; stealthily, as though some one was creeping towards me through the darkness. Had I been heard too? I asked myself. I thought not, for I had taken every precaution, treading as softly as I knew how. But was it safest to retreat, or to wait where I was? For a moment or two I waited listening whether the steps would approach me or not. For a while I heard nothing, and thought they had ceased. Then close to me I heard a louder crunch on the path, and I realized that only a few paces separated me from this unknown prowler who I felt convinced was on my trail. The sudden proximity nerved me to action. I glided back on the way I had come, but a treacherous twig cracked beneath my heel with a report like a pistol. I stood petrified, straining eyes and ears for signs of my pursuer. But he seemed to have halted. The air was deathly still. I pressed on again, hugging the wall, and felt where it opened back into a low doorway. I crept into the crevice, and silently strained against the little door; but it was locked. Indeed, I didn't expect to find it otherwise, for I remembered it, and knew it was never used. I thought my best plan was to wait under the archway, where if it came to blows I could take my enemy by surprise. I crouched into the darkness, listening for his approach. Still the silence remained unbroken, and my ears filled with that shrill singing which is only heard when the air is utterly still. The singing became so loud that I feared I wouldn't hear a sound if one came. Then I grew aware that the edge of my foot was resting on a pebble. I was terrified lest it should somehow shoot from beneath me and betray my hiding-place. But an inspiration came to me. Slowly I stooped down and took the pebble in my hand, then carefully threw it in front of me among the shrubbery that bordered the other side of the path. I thought my pursuer hearing it would turn and follow the sound. I heard it fall with a dull thud on the earth beyond the bushes. I had thrown too far. To give the rustling sound I intended it should have fallen in among the twigs. However, I drew myself up silently and listened. I thought I could distinguish a faint movement. And it seemed that my pursuer was nearer than before. Would he step aside after the false trail? But another stir in the darkness told me he was still on my track.