He could
guess, and he had heard a dozen times, that dancing had made her
stronger than a panther and more swift. Yet he thought that if he had
her in his arms he could crush those light ribs until she would yield
and order her prisoner released. The trooper's confidence deserved
immediate, not postponed, reward.
He watched for a minute. He could see that her bosom rose and fell
regularly against the woodwork; she was all unconscious of her
danger, he was sure of it. He changed his position, and she neither
looked nor moved. He changed it again, so that his weight was all on
his left foot; he was sure she had not noticed. Then he sprang.
He sprang sidewise, as a horse does that sees a snake by the
roadside, every nerve and sinew keyed to the tightest pitch--eye, ear
and instinct working together. And she, in the same second, turned to
meet him smiling, with outstretched arms, as if she would meet him
half-way and hug him to her bosom, only she stepped a pace backward,
instead of forward as she had seemed to intend.
He landed where he had meant to, on the spot where she had stood.
His left hand clutched at the wall, and a second too late he made a
wild grab at the hole she had peered through, trying to get his
fingers into it. What she had done he never knew, but the floor she
had stood on yielded, and he heard her laugh as he slipped through
the opening like a tiger into a pit-trap, and fell downward into
blackness.
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