Black Jock, again left to himself, deserted by all his company, and in
spite of all the drink he had consumed walking fairly steadily, stepped
out upon the country road, neither caring nor knowing in which direction
he went. His head bent forward upon his breast, or rolling occasionally
from side to side, seemed too heavy for his neck to support, as he
swayed from the center of the road to its margin.
The horrible staring eyes began again to infest his journey, and seemed
to accompany him wherever he went. He could not get away from them. Out
in the lonely night, the whole sky merry with stars, was alive with
staring eyes, that glared down upon him from above with a cold sinister
light. They looked at him from the hedgerows; they glared at him from
behind every bush or knoll by the wayside; they glowered at him from
behind the trees; and they even perched upon his shoulders and peeped at
him in accusation.
"Damn you!" he growled, striking at them as if he would brush them from
his sight; but still they followed and accused no matter where he
turned. He grew more and more irritated and alarmed, as they seemed to
multiply with every minute that passed; and he quickened his pace, but
in spite of his speed, they still pursued and multiplied.
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