Читать книгу The Ostrekoff Jewels онлайн

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"A knife? There, by the sideboard—hurry."

He followed the slight movement of her head. A rudely fashioned peasant's knife lay amongst the bottles, already wet and suggestively stained. He picked it up and, falling on his knees, hacked at the cords which bound her. All the time the pandemonium upstairs ebbed and flowed as the doors were opened or closed. The girl was free now from her shoulders to her waist. She had fallen a little on one side and was evidently struggling against unconsciousness. He attacked the thicker cord that bound her knees. Suddenly they heard the dreaded sound—heavy, stumbling footsteps on the stairs. Whoever she was, he thought afterwards, it must have been a fine impulse which prompted her whisper.

"Better go," she faltered. "The house is full of them—they will kill you."

He laughed scornfully. Life and death during those last few moments seemed to have lost their full significance. One more twist of the knife and she was free. He stood up. She too staggered to her feet, but at her first attempt sank back into the chair. Nevertheless, she was standing once more by his side when he turned to face the owner of the footsteps. The latter came blundering into the room, true to type, a large bestial-looking man, his cheeks flushed with drink, his eyes hungry with lust. He stopped short by the table, shouting and yelling wild Russian oaths, a whole string of them, as he saw the girl free from her bondage and Haven by her side. The latter acted on an inspiration that served him well. He wasted no breath in words, but, when he saw the newcomer's long hairy fingers groping towards his belt, he rushed in before he could reach his knife, struck up the hand with his right fist and got home with his left upon the chin. The man was of sturdy build, however, and although he was momentarily staggered, he held his ground and persisted in his efforts to reach his knife. Haven, ducking low, ran in once more, hit him under the jaw this time and sent his victim crashing into a pile of broken furniture.