Sanine stood still. Out of
the gloom a figure emerged, and rapidly approached him. Again Sanine
felt a sinister presentiment.
"What's the matter?" he called out.
The figure stopped for a moment, and Sanine was confronted by a soldier
whose dull face showed great distress.
"What has happened?" exclaimed Sanine.
The soldier murmured something and ran on, wailing as he went. As a
phantom he vanished in the night.
"That was Sarudine's servant," thought Sanine, and then it flashed
across him:
"Sarudine has shot himself!"
For a moment he peered into the darkness, and his brow grew cold.
Between the dread mystery of night and the soul of this stalwart man a
conflict, brief yet terrible, was in progress.
The town was asleep; the glimmering roadways lay bare and white beneath
the sombre trees; the windows were like dull, watchful eyes glaring at
the gloom. Sanine tossed his head and smiled, as he looked calmly in
front of him.
"I am not guilty," he said aloud. "One more or less--"
Erect and resolute, he strode onward, an imposing spectre in the silent
night.
Pages:
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398