My eyes had not been idle after the warning of Mother Borton, and in an
instant I had decided what to do. I had figured out what I conceived to
be the plan of the house, and thought I knew a way of escape. There
were two doors at the rear of the room, and facing me. One led, as I
knew, to the kitchen; the other opened, I reasoned, on a stair to the
lodging-rooms above.
Before the scream that accompanied the extinction of the lights had
died away, I had made a dive beneath the table, and, lifting with all
my might, had sent it crashing over with my enemy under it. With one
leap I cleared the remaining table that lay between me and the door.
And with the clamor behind me, I turned the knob and bounded up the
stairs, three steps at a time.
CHAPTER VII
MOTHER BORTON
The noise of the struggle below continued. Yells and curses rose from
the maddened men. Three shots were fired in quick succession, and a cry
of "Oh, my Lord!" penetrated through the closed door with the sound of
one sorely hurt.
I lingered for a little, listening to the tumult. I was in a strange
and dangerous position. Enemies were behind me. There were friends,
too, but I knew no way to tell one from the other, and my ignorance had
nearly brought me to my death. I hesitated to move, but I could not
remain in the open hall; and as the sounds of disturbance from below
subsided, I felt my way along the wall and moved cautiously forward.
I had progressed perhaps twenty steps when a door, against which my
hand pressed, yielded at the touch and swung slowly open.
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