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She was sure his head must be
paining terribly. If only he would take something for it!
In a little while he grew very quiet. Soon she was sure that he was
asleep. But after she had at last stolen away he turned and buried his
face in his arms.


CHAPTER XV

THE VERDICT
It was Monday morning now. The hours of that night had been hours of
torture. Sleep had come once or twice, but sleep meant only the surrender
of his mind to the horrors which preyed upon it. He could, in some
measure, exert a mastery when awake, but no man is master of his dreams.
His dreams put before him all those things his thoughts fought away. In
his dreams, there was a fearful thing pursuing him, reaching out for him,
gaining upon him with each step. Or sometimes, it stalked beside him, not
retreating, not advancing, but waiting, standing there beside him with
grim, inexorable smile. It was after waking from such dreams that he
breathed his prayer that this night pass. No matter what be ahead, he
asked that this night pass away.


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