"What is that?" My flesh chilled with horror as from
the gloomy depths of the wood upon our left rose a sound evil beyond
description, an awful scuffling intermingled with gasps and sighs very
terrible to hear.
Spellbound by this dreadful, hushed clamour, I stood rigidly, staring
into those dense shadows whence it came; then joyed to the warm,
strong clasp of her fingers on mine and, in this awful moment,
wondered to feel her hand so steady.
"Are you afraid, Peregrine?" she whispered.
"Yes!" I mumbled. "Yes!"
"But are you brave enough to go and see what it is? Dare you
go--alone?"
"No!" I gasped. "No--I should--die--" My teeth snapped shut upon the
word and I began to creep forward, the ash stick clutched in shaking
hand, my eyes glaring in horrified expectancy. Foot by foot I forced
my shivering body forward into the denser shadows of the underbrush,
on and on in such agony of fear that the sweat poured from me, for now
this frightful struggling was louder and more menacing; therefore,
lest I should blench and turn back, I ran wildly forward until, all at
once, I stopped at sight of a shapeless something, a dim horror that
started and wallowed, gasping, upon the ground before me; then, as I
stared, the thing bleated feebly, and I knew it for a sheep and,
coming nearer, saw the poor animal lay upon its back, kicking and
struggling vainly to regain its feet.
My revulsion of feeling was so great that a faintness seized me and I
leaned half-swooning against a tree.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169