Page 194 - A Jacobite Exile

"Well, Conrad, if we cannot find this fellow before Ben Soloman comes, I
am with you in the business. I have been working for him on starvation pay

for the last three years, and hate him as much as you can."

When they reached the hut they cooked a meal, and then prepared to keep
alternate watch.

Charlie slept quietly all night, and, in the morning, remained in his hiding
place until he heard, in the distance, the sound of a horse's tread. Then he

went out and sat down, leaning against a tree by the side of the path, in an
attitude of exhaustion.

Presently he saw Ben Soloman approaching. He got up feebly, and
staggered a few paces to another tree, farther from the path. He heard an

angry shout, and then Ben Soloman rode up, and, with a torrent of
execrations at the carelessness of the watchers, leapt from his horse and
sprang to seize the fugitive, whom he regarded as incapable of offering the

slightest resistance.

Charlie straightened himself up, as if with an effort, and raised his cudgel.

"I will not be taken alive," he said.

Ben Soloman drew his long knife from his girdle. "Drop that stick," he said,

"or it will be worse for you."

"It cannot be worse than being tortured to death, as you said."

The Jew, with an angry snarl, sprang forward so suddenly and unexpectedly

that he was within the swing of Charlie's cudgel before the latter could
strike. He dropped the weapon at once, and caught the wrist of the uplifted
hand that held the knife.

The Jew gave a cry of astonishment and rage, as they clasped each other,

and he found that, instead of an unresisting victim, he was in a powerful
grasp. For a moment there was a desperate struggle.