The sky was
grey, cloudy, and cold. My thoughts flew back to the
morning on which I had found the sachet--at that very
spot, almost at that very hour, and for a moment I grew
warm again at the thought of the little packet I carried
in my boot. But the landlord's dry manner, the sullen
silence of his two companions, whose eyes steadily
refused to meet mine, chilled me again. For an instant
the impulse to refuse to mount, to refuse to go, was
almost irresistible; then, knowing the madness of such a
course, which might, and probably would, give the men
the chance they desired, I crushed it down and went
slowly to my stirrup.
'I wonder you do not want my sword,' I said by way of
sarcasm, as I swung myself up.
'We are not afraid of it,' the innkeeper answered
gravely. 'You may keep it--for the present.'
I made no answer--what answer had I to make?--and we
rode at a footpace down the street; he and I leading,
Clon and the shock-headed man bringing up the rear. The
leisurely mode of our departure, the absence of hurry or
even haste, the men's indifference whether they were
seen, or what was thought, all served to sink my spirits
and deepen my sense of peril.
Pages:
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131