I caught the girl as she touched the ground, and, pulling
her away from the wheel, just in time to save her foot from being
crushed by it, I seized her hand, and dragged her--willing
captive!--towards the doorway. I pushed her into the cottage, with
a roughness for which I afterwards asked her pardon, and hastened
in after her.
Before I could close and bolt the door I heard a crash and a cry of
pain, and caught a glimpse of Cludde, who, in leaping from the
coach, had fallen awry and lay sprawling in the dust. Then I shut
him from sight and ran to the other door, by which Mistress Peabody
had gone into the garden. This I slammed and barred, dashing
afterwards to the window to do the like with it. Luckily it was
already fastened, and I was hastily drawing the shutters over it,
when Vetch, his face livid with passion, came up to it, drove his
pistol through the glass, and threatened to shoot me if I did not
instantly unbolt the door.
I have always had reason to thank Heaven that my brain is quickest
and my resolution most cool at the moments of greatest stress.
Vetch had fired his pistol through the lock of the turnpike gate;
being busy with the horse he had certainly not had time to recharge
it, nor to get another; so I thought that I might safely defy him.
Whispering to Mistress Lucy to find some hiding place in the
cottage out of view from the window, I stood with my hand on the
shutter, and said:
"What will you do if I yield?"
The answer was the heavy pistol, hurled straight at my head.
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