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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Dead Man's Rock"


Just then the boat touched at a mouldering flight of stairs, crusted
with green ooze to high-water mark, and covered now with snow.
She made fast the boat.
"This was the way he went," she muttered. "Track him, track him to
his death; spare him no single pang to make that death miserable!"
Her low voice positively trembled with concentrated hate.
"Stay," she said, "have you money?"
I suddenly remembered that I had given all the money on me to Bagnell
for getting out my boat, and told her so. At the same moment, too,
I thought upon the tin box still lying under the boat's stern.
I stepped aft and pulled it out.
"Here is money," she said; "money that I was to have given him.
Fifty pounds it is, in notes--take it all."
"But you?" I hesitated.
"Never mind me. Take it--take it all. What do I want with money if
only you kill him?"
I bent and kissed her hand.
"As Heaven is my witness," I said, "it shall be his life or mine.
The soul of one of us shall never see to-morrow."
Her hand was as cold as ice, and her pale face never changed.


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