I began to stoop for another pebble. I thought the manœuvre was worth a second trial. But as I stooped my arm touched something soft. My muscles stiffened, and my heart gave a bound, for I had touched a man. I dared not move; hardly dared breathe. I wanted to turn and look, but I couldn't control a nerve. Then I seemed to hear a deep slow breathing beside me. It was more a motion of the air than a sound. Summoning my utmost courage I turned my head. Very faintly in the blackness I could distinguish a sort of lesser dimness which I knew was a face. And I knew too that the eyes were fixed upon me. They seemed to be glowing at me, though nothing of them could I actually see. It was merely that I felt them there like a paralyzing spell. Then suddenly my attention was diverted. Close to me on the other side I heard the faint fillip of a stone on the path. I was caught in the trap all right. I expected every moment to feel a hand grip me from one side or the other. But nothing happened, and the strain became intolerable. I wanted to scream aloud, to spring out from the archway and into the open. What were they waiting for? Why didn't that hidden spy in the corner give the signal? Why didn't my first pursuer put out a hand and feel for me? They seemed to be playing with me, a cruel sort of game. I was fairly trapped, but they wished to linger out the agony. A terrible sweat broke out on my brow; my tongue went dry; my throat was so parched I could scarcely breathe. And all the while I could feel as it were a heavy shadow palpably closing in from either side. Then suddenly I caught my breath and choked. That broke the spell. I sprang away. I thought I felt a hand clutch me from behind as though to stop me; but before I had fled a couple of steps there was a splitting pain at my head as though something had burst within it; and before I lost consciousness I knew that some one had struck me a dizzying blow.