Fred Ashman moving slowly and lost in reverie, Burkhardt prowling like a wild beast behind him, with Ziffak clinging to the heels of the wretch as if he were his very shadow.
The moon, which gave but faint light at the beginning, increased in power as the minutes passed.

Ziffak fell back, so that if Burkhardt should look around, he would not recognize though he might see him.
But the ruffian did not turn his head: he was too intent on the fearful task before him.
Suddenly he stopped.

Instantly Ziffak crouched down into the smallest possible space and clutched his javelin.

The increasing moonlight showed that he had passed beyond the upper end of the village and was watching the lovers on the fringe of the forest beyond.
A movement on the part of Burkhardt, as if he were making preparation to fire his rifle, caused Ziffak to move swiftly and silently forward until he was within twenty paces.

Then he paused, for he was close enough.
The change of position on the part of the pursuer enabled him to catch the outlines of the lovers, so absorbed in each other's presence that they forgot to keep within the sheltering shadow of the trees.
Burkhardt could ask for no better opportunity than that which was now before him.