"
As he spoke, the Captain turned out of the street into a field path
shaded by a tall hedge; in due time we also came to this path and saw
a shady lane ran parallel with it, down which a man was walking. We
had gone but a little way along this path when Mr. Shrig halted and
seating himself upon the grassy bank, took off his hat and mopped his
brow.
"A be-eautiful sunset, sir."
"Yes!" I answered, turning to view the glowing splendour.
"So werry red, Mr. Werricker, sir, like fire--like blood."
But I noticed that his keen glance was fixed upon the little wood that
gloomed some distance before us, also that he held his head aslant as
one who listens intently, and had taken out his ponderous watch.
"Why do you sit there, Mr. Shrig?" I enquired, a little impatiently.
"I'm a-vaitin', sir."
"What for, man?"
"Hush, sir, and you'll soon--"
The word was lost in a strange, sudden, double concussion of sound.
"At ex-actly twenty-two minutes to eight, sir!" said Mr. Shrig, and
rising to his feet, set off briskly along the path. We had almost
reached the wood I have mentioned when Mr. Shrig raised his knobbed
stick to point at something that sprawled grotesquely across the path.
The hat had fallen and rolled away and staring down into the horror of
this face fouled with blood and blackened with powder, I recognised
the features of Captain Danby.
"So here's the end o' Wiciousness," said Mr. Shrig and as he leaned
upon his stick I saw his bright glance roving here and there; it
flashed along the path before us; it swept the thicker parts of the
hedge behind us; it questioned the deepening shadow of the copse.
Pages:
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439