A stream of light from within
the church fell across that one empty grave, that one dead watcher.
"So you have come at last," he said; and then the spell was broken, and
I would have fled, but that, holding me with his left hand, he pointed
with his right away to a shadowy distance, where the gray sky merged
into deepest black.
I strained my eyes to discover the object he strove to indicate, but I
failed to do so. I could just discern something flitting away into the
darkness, but I could give it no shape or substance.
"Look--look!" the dead man said, rising, in his excitement, and
clutching me more firmly with his clay-cold fingers.
I tried to fly, but I could not; my feet were chained to the spot. I
fought to rid myself of the clasp of the skeleton hand, and then we fell
together over the edge of the pit, and I awoke.
9. A TEMPORARY PEACE
It was scarcely light when I jumped out of bed, and murmuring, "Thank
God it was only a dream," dressed myself with all speed, and flinging
open the window, looked out on a calm morning after the previous
night's storm.
Muddily and angrily the Thames rolled onward to the sea. On the opposite
side of the river I could see stretches of green, with here and there a
house dotting the banks.
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