Part 47 (1/2)

And at that instant the very heavens echoed with that awful tumult which had first paralysed, then crazed him in the woods.

Bottles, bread, cheese fell from his grasp and his knees nearly collapsed under him. In the bushes on the lake sh.o.r.e he saw animals leaping and racing, but, in his terror, he did not recognise them for dogs.

Then, suddenly, he saw a man, close to the house, running: and another man not far behind. _That_ he understood, and it electrified him into action.

It was too late to escape from the house now. He understood that instantly.

He ran back through the dance-hall and dining-room to the pantry; but he dared not let these intruders hear the noise of hammering.

In an agony of indecision he stood trembling, listening to the infernal racket of the dogs, and waiting for the first footstep within the house.

No step came. But, chancing to look over his shoulder, he saw a man peering through the pantry window at him.

Ungovernable terror seized Sard. Scarcely aware what he was about, he seized the edges of the big drain-pipe and crowded his obese body into it head first. He was so fat and heavy that he filled the tile. To start himself down he pulled with both hands and kicked himself forward, tortoise-like, down the slanting tunnel, sticking now and then, dragging himself on and downward.

Now he began to gain momentum; he felt himself sliding, not fast but steadily.

There came a hitch somewhere; his heavy body stuck on the steep incline.

Then, as he lifted his bewildered head and strove to peer into the blackness in front, he saw four b.a.l.l.s of green fire close to him in darkness.

He began to slide at the same instant, and flung out both hands to check himself. But his palms slid in the slime and his body slid after.

He shrieked once as his face struck a furry obstruction where four b.a.l.l.s of green fire flamed horribly and a fury of murderous teeth tore his face and throat to b.l.o.o.d.y tatters as he slid lower, lower, settling through crimson-dyed waters into the icy depths of Star Pond.

Stormont, down by the lake, called to Darragh, who appeared on the veranda:

”Oh, Jim! Both otters crawled into the drain! I think your dogs must have killed one of them under water. There's a big patch of blood spreading off sh.o.r.e.”

”Yes,” said Darragh, ”something has just been killed, somewhere ...

Jack!”

”Yes?”

”Pull both your guns and come up here, quick!”

EPISODE TEN

THE TWILIGHT OF MIKE

I

When Quintana turned like an enraged snake on Sard and drove him to his destruction, he would have killed and robbed the frightened diamond broker had he dared risk the shot. He had intended to do this anyway, sooner or later. But with the noise of the hunting dogs filling the forest, Quintana was afraid to fire. Yet, even then he followed Sard stealthily for a few minutes, afraid yet murderously desirous of the gems, confused by the tumult of the hounds, timid and ferocious at the same time, and loath to leave his fat, perspiring, and demoralised victim.

But the racket of the dogs proved too much for Quintana. He sheered away toward the South, leaving Sard floundering on ahead, unconscious of the treachery that had followed furtively in his panic-stricken tracks.