It must have been visible at that moment from twenty
miles out at sea, from the shore at Graden Wester, and far inland
from the peak of Graystiel, the most eastern summit of the Caulder
Hills. Bernard Huddlestone, although God knows what were his
obsequies, had a fine pyre at the moment of his death.
CHAPTER IX - TELLS HOW NORTHMOUR CARRIED OUT HIS THREAT
I should have the greatest difficulty to tell you what followed
next after this tragic circumstance. It is all to me, as I look
back upon it, mixed, strenuous, and ineffectual, like the struggles
of a sleeper in a nightmare. Clara, I remember, uttered a broken
sigh and would have fallen forward to earth, had not Northmour and
I supported her insensible body. I do not think we were attacked;
I do not remember even to have seen an assailant; and I believe we
deserted Mr. Huddlestone without a glance. I only remember running
like a man in a panic, now carrying Clara altogether in my own
arms, now sharing her weight with Northmour, now scuffling
confusedly for the possession of that dear burden. Why we should
have made for my camp in the Hemlock Den, or how we reached it, are
points lost for ever to my recollection. The first moment at which
I became definitely sure, Clara had been suffered to fall against
the outside of my little tent, Northmour and I were tumbling
together on the ground, and he, with contained ferocity, was
striking for my head with the butt of his revolver.
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