Here were at least six separate causes for extreme
surprise; each part and parcel with the others, and forming all
together one consistent story. I felt almost ashamed to believe my
own senses.
As I thus stood, transfixed with wonder, I began to grow painfully
conscious of the injuries I had received in the scuffle; skulked
round among the sand-hills; and, by a devious path, regained the
shelter of the wood. On the way, the old nurse passed again within
several yards of me, still carrying her lantern, on the return
journey to the mansion-house of Graden. This made a seventh
suspicious feature in the case - Northmour and his guests, it
appeared, were to cook and do the cleaning for themselves, while
the old woman continued to inhabit the big empty barrack among the
policies. There must surely be great cause for secrecy, when so
many inconveniences were confronted to preserve it.
So thinking, I made my way to the den. For greater security, I
trod out the embers of the fire, and lit my lantern to examine the
wound upon my shoulder. It was a trifling hurt, although it bled
somewhat freely, and I dressed it as well as I could (for its
position made it difficult to reach) with some rag and cold water
from the spring. While I was thus busied, I mentally declared war
against Northmour and his mystery. I am not an angry man by
nature, and I believe there was more curiosity than resentment in
my heart.
Pages:
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248