To get away I had to pass the wall of the old orchard and the flagstone on which Mr. Ablethorpe and I had seen Mad Jeremy stamping down with such force. Now, if I had not been such a conceited young man (my father's words), or so taken up with getting the better of Elsie (that young person's own opinion), I would have known that any of the crew who knew the secret of the iron door and the bricked passage would also be sure to know that of the flagstone and the way out by the orchard. But at any rate it did not occur to me at the time. I thought solely about getting home, arming a band, and coming to watch for the scratcher of the lily beds, the swimmer of the Backwater, the creature which had opened and shut the iron door--no easy task, as we knew, Mr. Ablethorpe and I. So I skirted the water edge of the old orchard hastily. Some stones had rolled down from the coping, and the walking was difficult. But there was still a good deal of light, as soon as I had turned the corner. For the west was bright with a late golden afterglow. Quite useful it was. I was just about the middle, just where the gates with their broken blazons had stood, for it had been a swell place once. Also there was a short cut across to the Bewick road. I passed between the damaged stone posts, which, however, still stood upright. As I did so, something sprang at me with the growl of a hungry tiger. I had hardly time to glance up, and even then I could see no more than a vaguely shining head, and an arm uplifted to strike, with something glittering in it like a crescent moon. There was no time for defence. There was no time for escape. The Thing, beast, or man--more beast-like now than human--was upon me and bore me down. But even while the danger was in the air, I heard a sound which appeared to me not at all like a shot--more like a spit of fire when a log sparks on the hearth. And in a moment I was prone on my face, bruised and beaten down by the weight. I heard a jangle of steel. I supposed that I was wounded--that this was the end. And with the Thing heavy on the top of me, I fainted away. CHAPTER XL WANTED--A PENNY IN THE SLOT When I came to myself the moon had risen--risen good and high, too--for it showed well above the orchard wall where it was broken, and over the palisades with which Hobby Stennis had mended it with his own hand. Elsie was seated by me. She had opened up my coat, and undone my waistcoat and shirt at the neck. There was a pleasant coolness, and she was slopping about with a wet handkerchief--not very big, indeed, being one of her own, and better adapted for dabbing dry girls' eyes, than for recovering a man out of a faint. I sat up. "How did you come here?" I said. "How did you?" she answered, very shortly; "lie still!" "Shan't!" "Still in the sulks?" "I say, Elsie, what was _that_?" "What?"