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           Wordscouldnotconveyit—whenAmmilookedoutagainthehaplessbeastlayhuddledinertonthemoonlitgroundbetweenthesplinteredshaftsofthebuggy.ThatwasthelastofHerotilltheyburiedhimnextday.Butthepresentwasnotimetomourn,foralmostatthisinstantadetectivesilentlycalledattentiontosomethingterribleintheveryroomwiththem.Intheabsenceofthelamplightitwasclearthatafaintphosphorescencehadbeguntopervadetheentireapartment.Itglowedonthebroad-plankedfloorandthefragmentofragcarpet,andshimmeredoverthesashesofthesmall-panedwindows.Itranupanddowntheexposedcorner-posts,coruscatedabouttheshelfandmantel,andinfectedtheverydoorsandfurniture.Eachminutesawitstrengthen,andatlastitwasveryplainthathealthylivingthingsmustleavethathouse.

           Ammishewedthemthebackdoorandthepathupthroughthefieldstotheten-acrepasture.Theywalkedandstumbledasinadream,anddidnotdarelookbacktilltheywerefarawayonthehighground.Theyweregladofthepath,fortheycouldnothavegonethefrontway,bythatwell.Itwasbadenoughpassingtheglowingbarnandsheds,andthoseshiningorchardtreeswiththeirgnarled,fiendishcontours;butthankheaventhebranchesdidtheirworsttwistinghighup.ThemoonwentundersomeveryblackcloudsastheycrossedtherusticbridgeoverChapman’sBrook,anditwasblindgropingfromtheretotheopenmeadows.

           WhentheylookedbacktowardthevalleyandthedistantGardnerplaceatthebottomtheysawafearsomesight.