The place was quite deserted at that hour, and
although I was so near home, the worst would have happened, I
fear, if my sense of hearing had been less acute. I turned in the
very instant that a man was about to spring upon me from behind.
He was holding in his hand what looked like a large silk
handkerchief. This encounter took place in the shadow of some
trees, and beyond the fact that my assailant was a small man, I
could form no impression of his identity."
"What did you do?"
"I turned and struck out with my stick."
"And then?"
"Then he made no attempt to contest the issue, but simply ran
swiftly off, always keeping in the shadows of the trees."
"Very strange," murmured Harley. "Do you think he had meant to
drug you?"
"Maybe," replied Sir Charles. "The handkerchief was perhaps
saturated with some drug, or he may even have designed to attempt
to strangle me."
"And you formed absolutely no impression of the man?"
"None whatever, Mr. Harley. When you see the spot at which the
encounter took place, if you care to do so, you will recognize
the difficulties. It is perfectly dark there after nightfall."
"H'm," mused Harley. "A very alarming occurrence, Sir Charles. It
must have shaken you very badly. But we must not overlook the
possibility that this may have been an ordinary footpad."
"His methods were scarcely those of a footpad," murmured Sir
Charles.
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