He seemed almost dazed at the fierceness of my attack; otherwise I think he must have killed me.

I sank on my knee panting, expecting him to ride at me.

And so he would have done, and then and there, I doubt not, one or both of us would have died; but at the moment there came a shout from behind us, and, looking round, I saw, just at the turn of the avenue, a man on a horse.

He was riding hard, and he carried a revolver in his hand.

It was Fritz von Tarlenheim, my faithful friend.