They listened. Not a sound broke the calm of the summer night except the sigh of the wandering breeze in the tops of the pines. Like three flitting shadows, they crossed the road; and entered the wood upon the farther side. Streloff was immensely anxious to go on for at least half a mile--to meet the tarantasse at as great a distance as possible from where the ambush waited. But he was bothered, for the unknown others had chosen the very place he had decided to occupy--in the deep part of the wood, yet far enough from the village to prevent sounds from being heard. Who could they be? As they pushed along, he told himself that he was a fool. Doubtless these men were but three or four tramps, perhaps on their way from the harvest of one village to that of another--sleeping in the woods on their journey. But, whoever they were, they must not be witnesses of what was to take place. And then, before he and his followers had reached a spot parallel to that where they had seen the lighted match, they heard the ringing of the harness-bells upon Felix's carriage. For a moment they paused, simultaneously, while the musical ting, ting, ting, sounded each second clearer. This sudden destruction of his plans caused Streloff to hesitate--to hesitate three or four long, endless seconds, before he said: "Run back--back--as far down the road as we can." They ran. But behind them the bells of the tarantasse rang more and more piercing sweet. And then there was a long, wild shout, and Streloff faced suddenly round, to see that a man had sprung from the other side of the road and caught the horse's head, and that Felix Vanston was standing up in the tarantasse, and had just hurled a second man down upon the ground; while two or three others were winding ropes about the prostrate form of Max, whom they had dragged from his seat. Streloff gave no orders to his followers. He forgot all about them. Without a second thought he sprang into the mêlée. He never doubted that these men, though unknown to him, were his allies, for manifestly they were hostile to Felix; and he ran forward, his knife bare, shouting wildly, "Kill him--kill him! What is the use of taking him prisoner?" He had brought no revolver, for he had meant to do his work silently, and shots carry on a still night. But his sudden appearance from nowhere seemed to strike the other men for a breathing space still with amazement. He saw then that they were masked. "Help! Help!" cried Felix, writhing in the grip of three of them. But the man who led had recovered from his bewilderment. "Stand, or I fire!" he called out, covering Streloff with the muzzle of his revolver. "Streloff!" shouted Felix. "What are you doing here? Help me, you young fool! Knock that fellow down!" "He has a knife! Look out!" cried another of the masked men, springing behind Streloff and pinioning his elbows.