Marion was alive despite her
brother's somber prophesies. If she had killed herself the sheriff would
not have coupled her name with Winnsome's in the way he had.
Nathaniel's nerves were breaking with suspense. He stifled his breath to
listen, to catch the faintest whisper that might come to him from the
white faced man at his side. Each passing moment of silence added to his
desperation. He squeezed the sheriff's hand with his arm, but there was
no responding signal; in a patch of thick gloom that almost concealed
the figures ahead he pressed near to him and lowered his head again--and
Jeekum pushed him back fiercely, with a low curse.
They emerged from the forest and the clear starlight shone down upon
them. A little distance off lay the lake in shimmering stillness.
Nathaniel looked boldly at the sheriff now, and as his glance passed
beyond him he was amazed at the change that had come over Neil. The
young man's head was bowed heavily upon his breast, his shoulders were
hunched forward, and he walked with a listless, uneven step. Was it
possible that his magnificent courage had at last given way?
A hundred steps farther they came to the beach and Nathaniel saw a boat
at the water's edge with a single figure guarding it. Straight to this
Jeekum led his prisoners. For the first time he spoke to them aloud.
"One in front, the other in back," he said.
For an instant Nathaniel found himself close beside Neil and he prodded
him sharply with his knee.
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