The San Francisco call., 1907-02-03

the village ran PEI 5rtly straight
took "a sharp turn inland. leav-
ing the coast abruptly on account OF
the greater stretch Of marshland be-
yond.. II was toward this bend that I
walked and curiously enough. with
every step / took some inexplicable
sense Of nervous excitement grew
stronger and stronger within me. The
fresh morning air and the sunlight
seemed poWerless 10 oissipate Tor
moment the haunting terror OF last
might II was a real face that / had
seen pressed against the window. and
where had Ray been when he returned
with sand-cTOgge6 boots and telltale
seaweed upon his trousers? And later
on. had / dreamed it, or had there
really been a cry2 1t came back 10 me
with horrible distinctness. IT was
real cry the cry OF a man in terror for
HIS life. 1 stopped short in the road and
wiped my damp forehead. What fool
7 was, The night was over. Here in
the garish day there was surely moth
ing TO fesr2 Nevertheless, ], who had
started out thirsting only TO breathe
r. The fresh salt air. now walked along
With. steslthy nervous footsteps, look
sng all the time from left 10 right.
starting at the sight Of dark log
b1oy which had hoated Up one OF the
creeks. Some fear had come over me
which Z could not shake OF. / was
afraid of what I might see.
So I walked to the bend of the road
Here iu case the turn might be too
sharp FOR some 10 see at night. dozen
yards or Sc Of white posts and ratings
bordered the marshes. ] leaned over
them for q moment. telling myself that
colors drawn by the sunlight from the
sea soaked wilderness. the deep brown.
The strange purple, the faint pink OF
the distant sands. But il was none of
these which my eyes sought with such
nerce eagerness Tt was none of the
. artists fervor which turned my limbs
.into dead weights. which drew the
color even from my lips. and set my
heart beating with fierce. quick throbs.
Half in the creek and half out, not a
dozen. yards from the road. was the
figure OF man. His head and shoul-
ders We're beneath the water his body
and legs and outstretched arms were
upon the marsh. And although never
before had looked upon death, knew
very well that I was face to face with
81 now.
How long it was before I moved I
rannot .tes At last. however. 7
Towest point 4 smalleS creek. and with
slow footsteps approached the dead
man. Even when ] stood by his side
dared not touch him. ] dared not turn
him round TO see his face. 7 saw that
he was of middle size fairly well
- dressed. and as some blown sand had
drfted over his boots and ankles I
knew that he had been there for some
hours. There was blood upon his col
of }, Sc rfcr-f
were tightly clenched. ] told myself
that i was a coward. and set my
teeth. ] must lift his head from the
water and cover him up with my own
coat while ] fetched help. But when I
stopped down a deadly faintness came
over me. Ny fingers were palsied with
horror. I had a sudden irresistible
conviction could not touch him. It
was a sheer impossibility. There was
. something more potent than the
dread of dead man-sometfing &
inirnical between US two, the dead and
the living. I staggered away and ran
-,eeeling TO the road, plunging biindiy
through the creek.
p about two hundred yards farther
down the road was a small lodge at
: one Of the entrances of Rowchester. 1t
was toward this I turned and ran. The
door was closed. and I beat upon it
fercelv with clenched fist. The woman
who answered IL stared at me strange
S. ly, ] suppose that I was a wild-look-
ing object.
ITS Mr. Ducaine. isn't it?' she ex-
claimed. Why, sakes alive' what's
wrong, sir?"
"A dead man in the marshes" I fall
tered.
She was interested enough. but her
comeiy weather hardened face reflect
ed none OF the horror which she must
have seen on mine.
'Lordy me, whereabouts, sir?" she
inquired.
I pointed with trembling forefnger
She stood by my side on the threshold
OF the cottage and shaded her eyes
with her hand. for the glare Of the sun
was dazzling.
We'll ] never did" she remarked
But I said TO John last night that I
pitied them at sea He's been washed
up by the tide. I suppose. and 1 count
therell be more before the days out.
A year come next September there was
six OF EN-, gentlefolk, too. who'd been
yachting. Eh, but it's cruel thing is
the sea"
where is your husband?' I asked.
tCp chopping wood in Fernham Spin
ney.f she answered. I'D best send one
OF the children for him. He'll have a
cart with him. VIII you step inside.
sir2t
. I shook my head and answered her
vaguely. She sent a boy with a mes
sage. and brought me out a chair,
busting Il carefully with her apron.
.You'd best sit down, sir. You look
all struck OF a heap. so to speak May
be you came upon il sudden"
was glad enough to sit down, but
] ahswered her at random. She re-en-
tered the cottage and continued her
household duties. I sat quite still. with
my eyes steadily fixed upon a dark OBJ
sect a little 10 the left Of those white
palings, Above my head starting in
a wicker cage was making an insane
cackllng, on the green patch in front
2 couple Of tame rabbits sat and
watched me. pink-eyed. imperturbable.
Inside I could hear the slow ticking Of
an eight-day clock. All these things.
which my senses took quick note OF and
retained, seemed to me to belong to
another world. / myself was under
some sort OF spell. My brain was numb
with terror the fire OF life had left
my veins. so that I sat there In the
warm sunshine and shivered until nv
teeth chattered. Inside. the woman
was singing over her work.
And then the spell developed. A
nsmeless but loathsome fascination