Not until the shades of night should fall on the earth: he would have a better chance of getting away from that shark in the darkness than by daylight.

He propped his back against a tree and waited, hating himself all the time for his cowardice.

With all his scrapes and dilemmas, he had never been reduced to this sort of hiding.
And his pursuer had struck into the wood after him, passed straight through it, though with some little doubt and difficulty, and was already by the river-side, getting there just as Lord Hartledon was passing in his skiff.

Long as this may have seemed in telling, it took only a short time to accomplish; still Lord Hartledon had not made quick way, or he would have been further on his course in the race.
Would the sun ever set ?--daylight ever pass?
Val thought _not_, in his impatience; and he ventured out of his shelter very soon, and saw for his reward--the long coat and red whiskers by the river-side, their owner conversing with a man.

Val went further away, keeping the direction of the stream: the brushwood might no longer be safe.