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They appeared curious but not unfriendly as we breathlessly panted our way on to the ledge where they stood waiting, spears in hand. Our first impression was one of gasping wonderment. We seemed to stand upon a great stage of an immensity which words can not describe. It was a stage proportioned for giants.
"If I had known you!" he panted low. "If we had known each other! We did not!" Later, bit by bit, he told him of Jackson only of Jackson. He never spoke of other things. When put together the "bit by bit" amounted to this: "He was a queer, simple sort of American. He was full of ideals and a kind of unbounded belief in his country. He had enlisted in Canada at the beginning.
The surprise of the onslaught and the huge weight of my assailant gave him the advantage. He had a pistol in his right hand of a portentous size, which it took me all my strength to keep deflected. With his left arm he strained me to his bosom, so that I thought I must be crushed or stifled. His mouth was open, his face crimson, and he panted aloud with hard animal sounds.
The first wound was of comparatively small consequence, but he feared that the other was serious; but though the horse panted from its exertion and excitement, its breath came regularly; and it was evident that the ball had not hit the spine, for had it done so it would have fallen at once.
"Good news, great captain," Lightfoot panted. "We are all safe and sound and we have 'catched' ten of the Annawan people!" Nathaniel had done this. First there had been sighted two strange Indians skinning a horse in an old Indian burying-ground. Nathaniel had decoyed them on by howling the Wampanoag wolf signal. After they had been taken they had told of eight others near by.
"Vat you say to dat?" cried the waiter, turning round to face his companions, beginning loudly and ending in a choking whisper, for he had met a gust of wind face to face which stopped him for the moment from taking his breath and forced him to turn his back and make a snatch at the corner of one of the warehouses. "Faith of a good man!" he panted. "The vind blow me inside out! Aha!
"Here, Cristy!" he shouted. "This way. The Saucer! Make for the Saucer! Are you all right?" "Yes," she panted. "Oh, Philip, Svenson call Svenson!" Neither of them gave thought to the familiar names by which they addressed each other under the stress of the moment. "Here, Cork. Help her. Hustle back, the both of you." There was no time to lose.
Behind them they saw the franc-tireurs for a moment, thrashing waist-deep through the rank marsh weeds; then, as they plunged into a wheat-field, the landscape disappeared, and all around the yellow grain rustled, waving above their heads, dense, sun-heated, suffocating. Their shoes sank ankle-deep in the reddish-yellow soil; they panted, wet with perspiration as they ran.
The other panted chokingly: "Let go, damn you!" There was no answer. The pressure increased. There was a sudden tightening of the already taxed muscles. There was a dull snap; the blue coated figure fell writhing to the ground. The pilot, amazed at what was going on before him, had left the plane. He stood wide-eyed and white-faced at what he saw. Matthews stood there panting.
"A book, your Highness," panted the boy; "but it won't come out. Hah! that's it. Look, look! I found that on the table when I woke this morning. See what he has written here." Frank was thinking nothing about royalty or court etiquette in his excitement.
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