He stepped forward to the edge of an open place, which sloped down gradually to a stream—doubtless the same that threaded the glen, or a tributary. Beyond this water the corresponding ascent was clear of trees for perhaps a hundred yards. Down that side of the glade a dark figure was approaching so swiftly, and in such manner else, that Everell knew it as that of a man running for his life. There is a difference so pronounced as to be plain even in twilight and afar between the attitude of a man who runs in pursuit, and that of a man who runs from pursuit; and again, in either case, between that of one who runs in accordance with, and that of one who runs in opposition to, the law. Having no desire to interfere with a rogue who had just fired at, or been fired at by, somebody’s gamekeeper, or at best had taken a forbidden shot at somebody’s game, Everell concealed himself among some bracken of a man’s height. He waited a few minutes, hoping to be informed by his ears when the man should have passed. But he heard neither footfall nor panting, nor any noise of pursuit. Supposing that the fellow had changed his course at the stream, Everell stepped out from the bracken. He was just in time to confront a broad figure striding toward him. Ere Everell thought of self-defence, the newcomer uttered an ejaculation, and sprang aside with something upraised in the air. The next thing that Everell knew—for one rarely feels a knock-down blow on the head from such an instrument as the butt-end of a gun—he was lying among the bracken from which he had recently come forth. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER VI THANKS AT his side knelt the man who had felled him, and who was endeavouring to ascertain if he still breathed. Everell essayed to grasp his sword-hilt, but the other caught his wrist with a powerful hand. “Softly, master,” said a gruff but apparently pacific voice. “’Tis all a mistake, belike, and, if so be it is, I ask your pardon humbly. I make you out to be a gentleman, sir, and in that case not what I supposed. But you appeared so sudden, I took it you’d been lying in wait for me. I struck out first, and thought afterwards, which was maybe the wrong way about. So I stayed to see what hurt was done, and lend a hand if need be.—Nay, you’ll find I haven’t touched your pockets, sir.” Forgetting the injury in the chivalrous after-conduct—for nine men out of ten would have run away, whether the blow had been mistaken or not—Everell replied as heartily as he could: “Why, friend, you seem a very brave fellow, and I forgive you the mistake. As for harm, I do begin to feel something like a cracked crown; but my wits are whole enough, so the damage can’t be very great. I can tell better if you will allow me to rise—which you can safely do, as I assure you I’m not your enemy, nor was I lying in wait.”