The Dutchmen were chasing the men in the river, firing now and then, but everything was dreamlike to me, until I heard a light footstep behind me, which I knew was Anna's. Before I could turn round, I saw a movement in the reeds, and then a face, the mad woman's face, glaring at me, or at some one behind me. The next instant she sprang from her hiding-place, knife in hand, and I, now roused from my stupor, rose to seize her. I caught her in my arms, but she bore me to the ground. She writhed and twisted; she clasped her hands round my neck, trying to strangle me; she bit my bare shoulder; but I had just sense and strength enough to hold her fast until I heard Luke say--
"Let go, Measter Frank--let go; I have her safe, and you're bleeding to death."
The next thing I knew was that the vicar stood near in his old gown, and he and everybody looked so solemn that I got the notion this was a funeral company, and I the person they meant to bury.
"You mustn't," I whispered. "I'm not dead."
Wine was produced in some mysterious way, and Anna held the horn to my lips. The draught revived me greatly, and they told me what had passed during my fainting fit. As soon as the crazy woman had been secured, Luke had run to the vicarage for wine, and had ordered the sexton to bring the bier as the handiest means of conveyance. The vicar had followed. The doctor had attended to my wounds, and given instructions for their future treatment, and now Vliet was impatient to be gone. So we said our adieux, and Anna's right hand lay for a moment in my left, and my lips touched it. Then the boat moved off, and I was carried to the vicarage.
No one cares to read of sickness and pain (unless it may be those whose business it is to cure them), but I am in a manner compelled to say something of my wounds, else my story later on would be hardly understood. The cut in my wrist caused me much trouble by the third day, so much that I could scarcely forbear from ripping off the bandage. By-and-by the pain in my hand was almost intolerable. The hurts in my shoulder were painful too. The earlier wound broke out again, and the bite inflamed greatly, and a kind of fever came upon me, so that I grew light-headed at times, and hardly knew where I was, or what I said. When I was myself again, I fumed and chafed at my weak and helpless condition, and sometimes grew frightened lest the bite of the mad woman might communicate madness. I could not comprehend my own irritability and want of self-command. The servants enraged me by stealing in and out of my room so softly, and by speaking in sharp whispers which went to my brain like stiletto thrusts. Good Mr. Butharwick, who nursed me with nigh unsleeping care, nearly drove me crazy by bidding me not to think of subjects which disturbed me, and by talking of matters that in nowise concerned me. He had made some astounding discovery about the children of Israel, and how their destiny was written in the sky, as also were the future of the true Church and the doom of Antichrist. Everything could be made plain to one who read the Bible and knew astrology, and my good tutor appeared to think I might be soothed by hearing these mysteries expounded. I refrain from blasphemous language about the Holy Scriptures, but I said things about the stars and star-gazing which hurt Mr. Butharwick grievously.