Through dark and intricate turnings, the soldier’s daughter conducted me. I found the arm that was locked in mine tremble, and yet the night was far from cold. As we advanced, the lanes became darker and less frequented, and I could not avoid remarking, how dreary and deserted the immediate neighbourhood of my young friend’s residence appeared to be. She replied--the tone of voice was agitated. Was she ill? I asked the question, and gently put my arm round her for support. Suddenly, some terrible emotion convulsed her. “No--no--no!” she exclaimed: “not for thousands will I do it! There’s guilt enough upon my soul already!” “Come, Julia,” I said, not clearly hearing what she said; “I must get you assistance. Come on.” “Not another step,” she murmured. “Return--quick, quick--away, away!” She caught my hand convulsively, turned her lips to my ear, whispered in a deep, low voice, “Ten paces further, and _you are murdered!_” and bounding from my side, vanished in the darkness, leaving me the most confounded gentleman that ever followed that will-o’-the-wisp--a woman. CHAPTER XXII. I ESCAPE--BUT MR. SLOMAN MEETS WITH AN ACCIDENT. “_Malcolm._ This murderous shaft that’s shot, Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way Is, to avoid the aim.” “For ‘tis the sport, to have the engineer Hoist with his own petar.” Shakspeare. |It was pitch dark, and the locality as much unknown as if I had been dropped into Kamschatka. What the devil was I to do? I threw my cloak off, rolled it round my left arm, and firmly grasped my sapling; then, commending myself to the especial protection of St. Patrick, I endeavoured to retrace my steps. I blundered on for half a minute, a low rascally whistle immediately in my rear assuring me that I was in vicarious society, from which the sooner I parted company the better. Moving a pace or two forward, my steps evidently attracted the attention of the scoundrels, for a low voice inquired, “Is that you--Josh?” I never felt less inclination to be communicative, and silently continued my retreat. The suspicions of the cut-throats were confirmed. I heard a voice desire his comrade to “Come on,” adding, with an oath, “the bird’s alarmed!”