The blow sent me plunging forward, but did me no hurt. I owed my life
to Bernheim. His steel vest had stayed the blade that, otherwise,
would have found my heart.
With a cry, Moore sprang to me and caught me in his arms.
"I'm not hurt," I said, recovering my balance.
"Thank God!" he ejaculated--then took the hedge at a vault.
I caught him by the arm as he landed on the other side.
"Stay," I commanded. "Let the fellow go."
Moore looked at me a moment. "Let him go?" he exclaimed incredulously.
I nodded. "And come along--let us get away from here."
Without a word, he vaulted back and we moved off.
The whole thing had occurred so unexpectedly and so swiftly that the
few Masques, who had been in the vicinity, evidently had not noticed
the murderous nature of the assault; and the peculiar arrangement of
the hedges and trees had enabled my assailant to disappear almost
instantly. Indeed, but for Moore's vaulting the boxwood after him, it
is likely no one would have suspected anything unusual.
Several men came up and inquired if they could be of any assistance,
but I assured them it was a matter of no consequence--that I had,
evidently, been mistaken for another--or it was only a bit of
pleasantry from some friend who had recognized me.
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