Американська трагедія

Chapter 6

           

           Andsothinkinghehurriedfasterandfasterasfastasstrongandserriedandbramblyyoungfirsanddeadbranchesthatcrackedmostominouslyattimeswouldpermit,thinkingalwaysashewentthattheroadtoThreeMileBaymustbetohisrighthand,themoontohisleftwhenitshouldrise.

           But,God,whatwasthat?

           Oh,thatterriblesound!

           Likeawhimpering,screechingspiritinthisdark!

           There!

           Whatwasit?

           Hedroppedhisbagandinacoldsweatsunkdown,crouchingbehindatall,thicktree,rigidandmotionlesswithfear.

           Thatsound!

           Butonlyascreech-owl!HehadhearditseveralweeksbeforeattheCranstonlodge.Buthere!Inthiswood!Thisdark!Hemustbegettingonandoutofhere.Therewasnodoubtofthat.Hemustnotbethinkingsuchhorrible,fearfulthoughts,orhewouldnotbeabletokeepuphisstrengthorcourageatall.

           ButthatlookintheeyesofRoberta!Thatlastappealinglook!God!Hecouldnotkeepfromseeingit!Hermournful,terriblescreams!Couldhenotceasefromhearingthemuntilhegotoutofhereanyhow?

           Hadsheunderstood,whenhestruckher,thatitwasnotintentionalameregestureofangerandprotest?DidsheknowthatNOW,wherevershewasinthebottomofthelakeorhereinthedarkofthesewoodsbesidehim,mayhap?Ghosts!Hers.

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