He was nearer now--scarcely a yard away, still with his beady glaring eyes fixed on Martin's face: and Martin was powerless to fly from him--powerless even to stir a step or to lift a hand.

His heart jumped so that it choked him, his hair stood up on his head, and he trembled so that he was ready to fall.

And at last, when about to fall to the ground, in the extremity of his terror, he uttered a great scream of despair; and the sudden scream so startled the weasel, that he jumped up and scuttled away as fast as he could through the creepers and bushes, making a great rustling over the dead leaves and twigs; and Martin, recovering his strength, listened to that retreating sound as it passed away into the deep shadows, until it ceased altogether..