And always I saw the meadow as we had
found it that first day with drifts of white butterflies over the
flowers, and the woods warm and beckoning. How would the meadow look
now?
But when we came to it I thought it looked unchanged, save that the fog
made all things sinister. We crashed through the guarding reeds, and I
let the canoe drive hard upon the sand. No one was in sight, and a
wolf was whining at the edge of the timber. I leaped to the shore.
I think that I called as I stumbled forward. I saw the ashes of a dead
fire, and a cask that had held rum lying with the sides and end knocked
in. Then I saw a dead body.
I did not hasten then. My feet crawled. The body lay sprawled and
limp with its out-stretched fingers clutching. One hand pointed toward
the woman's cabin.
I turned the corpse over. It was Simon. His scarlet head was still
dripping, but his face was untouched. I saw that he had died
despairing, and I laid him back with a prayer on my lips but with the
lust to kill in my heart.
I went through the cabins quickly but methodically. I think that I
made no sound of grief or excitement, but I knew indefinitely that Lord
Starling was following me, and that, at horribly measured intervals, he
gave short, panting groans.
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