After all there was no necessity of my moving, for in a moment the flame again swept the ground in a circle at the man's feet. Wondering what he might find, and knowing that I could not be seen from where he was, I rose and walked to the edge of the swamp, but I could see nothing there. Then, remembering that the ground rose to a pasture at my left, I carefully started in that direction. And then, after I had taken one step, my foot slipped upon a branch, and as the branch rolled over, I fell into the bushes with a crash. I was not hurt, but at the sound of my fall the flashlight was suddenly extinguished. For a second I lay still, then, knowing there was no use to keep silent, arose. And at that second I heard the man blundering out of the underbrush, and the sound of his running feet. Instinctively I started to run in the direction which would the soonest bring me into the open—along the edge of the swamp, up the little grassy hill, and then I paused an instant to listen. For a moment I heard nothing, and then down below me, in the direction of the lake, I heard the sound of running feet. Whoever had been on the other side of the swamp was taking no chance of being seen. As this thought struck me, I started down the hillside for the water. The shore was not so far away, but before I reached it I heard the man half tumble into a boat, and there came the sound of oars splashing in the water. As I reached the shore, almost crashing into the stone wall of the Warren estate, I heard the faint click of the oars as the man began to row down the lake. My canoe was on the other side of the wall. To reach it, I had to stumble as softly as I could around the wall, which stopped at the water. Lucky for me, though I had to wade, the water was not above my shoe tops, and it took only a moment to reach the canoe. I knew I had one advantage. It was almost impossible for the man to row the boat without making some sound with the oars; but I could paddle the canoe silently. As I half fell over the canoe, I paused a second, waiting to catch the faint sound of the oars; then silently I pushed the canoe into the water, climbed in, and started to paddle as softly as possible in the direction of the boat. It was far ahead of me, and the night was so dark I could see but a few feet in front of me. But once in a while I could hear the oars click, for the man was rowing with all his speed, evidently not knowing that I had a canoe. It had been my idea that as I could paddle faster than he could row, I could soon reach him. My plan was to let him go ashore, and then as he stepped out of the boat, to reach his side. One thing above all I wished to do—see who it might be. After that there were a few questions I wished to ask.