'
'Why?' I asked mutinously, curiosity getting the better of me.
For had I been wise I had taken no notice; every second his horse
was coming up with mine. Its nose was level with my stirrup
already.
'Hush, man!' he said again. This time there was no mistake
about the panic in his voice. 'They call this the Devil's
Chapel, God send us safe by it! It is late to be here. Look at
those!' he continued, pointing with a finger which visibly
shook.
I looked. At the mouth of the gully, in a small space partly
cleared of stones, stood three broken shafts, raised on rude
pedestals.
'Well?' I said in a low voice. The sun, which was near setting,
flushed the great peak above to the colour of blood; but the
valley was growing grey and each moment more dreary. 'Well, what
of those?' I said.
In spite of my peril and the excitement of the coming struggle I
felt the chill of his fear. Never had I seen so grim, so
desolate, so God-forsaken a place! Involuntarily I shivered.
'They were crosses,' he muttered in a voice little above a
whisper, while his eyes roved this way and that in terror.
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