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Updated: August 31, 2025
She knelt, and began to wash the grime from his face, to cleanse the wound on his head, and readjust the bandage. Then his hands, after another trip to the stream to rub out the soiled end of the towel; and she was still busy with one of them, when she started back with a cry. His coat had opened wider, and she saw that his shirt was stained with blood. She had forgotten the revolver-shot!
She half-rose from her chair and, bending toward him, thought, as she thought each time, of the murder which she could commit, of the murder which she would commit. One revolver-shot and the odious brute was done for. Slowly her hand glided to the weapon concealed in her bodice.
The marvellous agility of the action, the unerring precision with which he pounced upon his prey, above all, the voice that had yelled in execration, sent such a stab of amazed recognition through Muriel that she stood for a second as one petrified. But the next instant all her senses were pricked into alertness by a revolver-shot. Another came, and yet another.
She clung to him desperately, still holding him back. "I don't know I don't know! But don't go that way! I have a horrible feeling Ah!" The deafening report of a revolver-shot rang out suddenly close to them. Hill turned with a sound in his throat like the growl of an angry animal, and in a moment he had thrust Dot back against the protecting corner of the wall. "You are not hurt?" she gasped.
So, putting the camels down in the welcome shade of a kurrajong, I lay down beside them and was presently relieved by the sound of a revolver-shot, our signal that water was found. What a beautiful sight it was!
Out of revolver-shot they stopped and discussed the situation. In the rear, the men who had attacked there were even now knocking at the door with their revolver butts. Chester heard Colonel Anderson's voice: "Get away from there, or I shall fire through the door." There came a loud report and Chester believed for a moment the colonel had been as good as his word. But he was soon undeceived.
A black shape was dropping, with incredible agility from branch to branch of the ivy, and, without once offering a mark for a revolver-shot, it merged into the shadows beneath the trees of the garden. As I turned and switched on the light Nayland Smith dropped limply into a chair, leaning his head upon his hands. Even that grim courage had been tried sorely.
A shrill cry came from the man he had struck, almost simultaneously with the report of a revolver-shot. Durham heard a scream of pain from Dudgeon, but before he could know more there was a crashing blow on his head, and he fell senseless to the floor. In the dining-room of the bank Wallace, Harding, and Mrs. Eustace sat. "I have no alternative," Wallace said.
Thenceforward there was no sound at all in the Convent chapel, save the dull splash of rain, falling through the holes in the broken roof upon the sodden floor, where the dead woman lay, face downwards. No one had heeded the revolver-shot. The detonation of a cartridge or so when a bombardment is going on, what does it count for?
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