At the last moment she opened the
street-door, and stood listening for a little while, as she always did
when he was not at home. The rain was still sweeping through the street,
which was as silent as if the town had been deserted. The gas-lights in
the lamps flickered with the wind, and lit up the pools and channels of
water running down the pavements.
But just as she turned to go in, her quick ear caught the sound of
distant footsteps, growing louder as they came in her direction. It was
the tramp of several feet, marching slowly like those of persons bearing
a heavy burden. She waited to see who and what it could be so late this
Sunday night; and soon, under the flickering lamps, she caught sight of
several men, carrying among them a hurdle, with a shapeless heap upon
it. A sudden, vague panic seized her, and she hastily retreated inside
her house, shutting and barring the door. She said to herself she did
not wish to see what they were carrying past. But were they going past?
She heard them still, tramping slowly on toward her house; would they
pass by with their burden? She put down the light, for her hand trembled
too much to hold it; and she stood listening, her ears quickened for
every sound, and her white face turned toward the closed and fastened
door.
Pages:
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101