You ain't him, are you?"
He lifted the lantern again and fixed his keen eyes on Bard.
"However," he went on, lowering the lantern with an apologetic laugh,
"I'm standin' here askin' questions and chatterin' like a woman, and
what you're thinkin' of is bed, eh? Come on with me."
Upstairs in the house he found Bard a corner room with a pile of straw
in the corner by way of a mattress. There he spread out some blankets,
wished his guest a good sleep, and departed.
Left to himself, Anthony stretched out flat on his back. It had been a
wild, hard day, but he felt not the slightest touch of weariness; all he
wished was to relax his muscles for a few moments. Moreover, he must be
away from the house with the dawn-first, because Sally Fortune might
waken, guess where he had gone, and follow him; secondly because the
news of what had happened at Drew's place might reach Wood at any hour.
So he lay trying to fight the thought of Sally from his mind and
concentrate on some way of getting back to Drew without riding the
gauntlet of the law.
The sleep which stole upon him came by slow degrees; or, rather, he was
not fully asleep, when a sound outside the house roused him to sharp
consciousness compared with which his drowsiness had been a sleep.
Pages:
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310