Coventry and Cole met that night near a little church.
Hill was to join them, and tell them the result.
Now, as it happens, Little went home rather late that night; so these confederates waited, alternately hoping and fearing, a considerable time.
Presently, something mysterious occurred that gave them a chill. An arrow descended, as if from the clouds, and stuck quivering on a grave not ten yards from them. The black and white feathers shone clear in the moonlight.
To Coventry it seemed as if Heaven was retaliating on him.
The more prosaic but quick-witted cutler, after the first stupefaction, suspected it was the very arrow destined for Little, and said so.
"And Heaven flings it back to us," said Coventry, and trembled in every limb.
"Heaven has naught to do in it. The fool has got drunk, and shot it in the air. Anyway, it mustn't stick there to tell tales."
Cole vaulted over the church-yard wall, drew it out of the grave, and told Coventry to hide it.
"Go you home," said he. "I'll find out what this means."
Hill's unexpected assailant dragged him back so suddenly and violently that the arrow went up at an angle of forty-five, and, as the man loosed the string to defend himself, flew up into the sky, and came down full a hundred yards from the place.
Hill twisted violently round and, dropping the bow, struck the woman in the face with his fist; he had not room to use all his force; yet the blow covered her face with blood. She cried out, but gripped him so tight by both shoulders that he could not strike again but he kicked her savagely. She screamed, but slipped her arms down and got him tight round the waist. Then he was done for; with one mighty whirl she tore him off his feet in a moment, then dashed herself and him under her to the ground with such ponderous violence that his head rang loud on the pavement and he was stunned for a few seconds. Ere he quite recovered she had him turned on his face, and her weighty knee grinding down his shoulders, while her nimble hands whipped off her kerchief and tied his hands behind him in a twinkling.
So quickly was it all done, that by the time Little heard the scrimmage, ascertained it was behind him, and came back to see, she was seated on her prisoner, trembling and crying after her athletic feat, and very little fit to cope with the man if he had not been tied.
Little took her by the hands. "Oh, my poor Jael! What is the matter? Has the blackguard been insulting you?" And, not waiting for an answer, gave him a kick that made him howl again.
"Yes, kill him, the villain! he wanted to murder you. Oh, oh, oh!"
She could say no more, but became hysterical.
Henry supported her tenderly, and wiped the blood from her face; and as several people came up, and a policeman, he gave the man in charge, on Jael's authority, and he was conveyed to the station accordingly, he and his bow.
They took Jael Dence to a chemist's shop, and gave her cold water and salts: the first thing she did, when she was quite herself, was to seize Henry Little's hand and kiss it with such a look of joy as brought tears into his eyes.
Then she told her story, and was taken in a cab to the police-office, and repeated her story there.
Then Henry took her to Woodbine Villa, and Grace Carden turned very pale at Henry's danger, though passed: she wept over Jael, and kissed her; and nobody could make enough of her.
Grace Carden looked wistfully at Henry and said, "Oh that I had a strong arm to defend you!"
"Oh, Miss Grace," said Jael, "don't you envy me. Go away with him from this wicked, murdering place. That will be a deal better than any thing I can do for him."
"Ah, would to Heaven I could this minute!" said Grace, clinging tenderly to his shoulder. She insisted on going home with him and sharing his peril for once.
Hill was locked up for the night.
In the morning a paper was slipped into his hand. "Say there was no arrow."
He took this hint, and said that he was innocent as a babe of any harm. He had got a bow to repair for a friend, and he went home twanging it, was attacked by a woman, and, in his confusion, struck her once, but did not repeat the blow.
Per contra, Jael Dence distinctly swore there was an arrow, with two white feathers and one black one, and that the prisoner was shooting at Mr. Little. She also swore that she had seen him colloguing with another man, who had been concerned in a former attempt on Mr. Little, and captured, but had escaped from Raby Hall.
On this the magistrate declined to discharge the prisoner; but, as no arrow could be found at present, admitted him to bail, two securities fifty pounds each, which was an indirect way of imprisoning him until the Assizes.
This attempt, though unsuccessful in one way, was very effective in another. It shook Henry Little terribly; and the effect was enhanced by an anonymous letter he received, reminding him there were plenty of noiseless weapons. Brinsley had been shot twice, and no sound heard. "When your time comes, you'll never know what hurt you." The sense of a noiseless assassin eternally dogging him preyed on Little's mind and spirits, and at last this life on the brink of the grave became so intolerable that he resolved to leave Hillsborough, but not alone.
He called on Grace Carden, pale and agitated.
"Grace," said he, "do you really love me?"
"Oh, Henry! Do I love you?"
"Then save me from this horrible existence. Oh, my love, if you knew what it is to have been a brave man, and to find your courage all oozing away under freezing threats, that you know, by experience, will be followed by some dark, subtle, bloody deed or other. There, they have brought me down to this, that I never go ten steps without looking behind me, and, when I go round a corner, I turn short and run back, and wait at the corner to see if an assassin is following me. I tremble at the wind. I start at my own shadow."
Grace threw her arms round his neck, and stopped him with tears and kisses.
"Ah, bless you, my love!" he cried, and kissed her fondly. "You pity me--you will save me from this miserable, degrading life?"
"Ah, that I will, if I can, my own."
"You can."
