His face remained in its expression of equanimity, and he
added no further word of gesture to his argument.
My uncle held the door open for him to pass out, and after that
he extinguished the candle and followed, closing the door
noiselessly behind him.
The thing was like a scene acted in a playhouse. But it
accomplished what the playhouse fails in. It put the fear of
death into one who watched it. To me in the dark hall, looking
through the crack of the door, the placid Oriental in his English
uniform, and with his precise words like an Oxford don, was
surely the most devilish agency that ever urged the murder of
innocent men on an accomplice.
The wind was continuing to rise and the mist now covered the loch
and the open sea. It was of no use to stand before the window,
for the world was blotted out. I was cold and I lay down on the
bed and wrapped the covers around me. It seemed only a moment
later when old Andrew's hand was on me, and his thin voice crying
in the room.
"Will you sleep, sir, and God's creatures going to their death!"
He ran, whimpering in his thin old voice, down the stair, and I
followed him out of the house into the garden.
Pages:
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385