Page:The Whisper on the Stair by Lyon Mearson (1924).djvu/252

 saw a dead man disappear into the bushes. He hitched up his wagon and went to town lickety-split before I had a chance to argue with him or to find out what it was all about. The last I seen of him he was layin’ the whip on good—you’d be surprised at all the speed he could get out of that old bundle of skin and bones that he used to say was a horse. I declare to goodness gracious I never in all my born days⸺”

“Gone!” said Jessica. “Just when I need him so badly, too. I wonder what it really is that people manage to see around here at night; I never saw anything; did you?” Elizabeth shook her head.

“But we must get back to Norfolk to-night, Elizabeth. I must get away from those eyes—those green eyes that look right into me; I’m not my own master when he’s looking at me, Elizabeth—he could get me to do anything. He seems to project his own will into me, somehow; fills me up with himself; he takes possession of my senses, Elizabeth—Oh, Elizabeth, I’m afraid of him—afraid of what he’ll make me do!” She was wild eyed in her momentary terror.

“There, there, honey!” Elizabeth soothed her. “It’ll be all right—he won’t make you do anything—just say the word and I’ll empty a teakettle of boiling water on his head, and give him something really to worry about. I’ll⸺”

“You don’t understand, Elizabeth. The man’s a demon—he will stop at nothing, and I’m powerless when those terrible eyes catch me like a fish on a hook. I must get away⸺”

“We’ll walk, then,” decided Elizabeth. “It’s not so far, even if it is dark. Get your things, honey, and I’ll get dressed, too. We won’t stop for a suitcase. The rain’s stopped, and we’d better get right along.