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Welsh, James C.

"The Underworld The Story of Robert Sinclair, Miner"


Driven mad by the persistence of their stare, he rushed from side to
side of the road, striking at them, hitting out with his hands, and
kicking with his feet; but still they grew in numbers and in immensity.
He shook himself as if to free his body from them; he rushed ahead,
swearing and muttering; he growled and shouted, sometimes pleading to be
let alone, and sometimes roaring defiance to the night air; but still
the eyes held him relentlessly, implacably, and ever growing in numbers,
until it seemed as if the whole countryside were alive with them. They
came nearer and receded again; they swarmed round him in legions, then
withdrew behind the hedges to stare at him with wide-open lids. They
drew him onward, and he advanced cautiously. Then they rushed at him,
and retired again, as if driven back; but still they were there, just
round the bend of the road, just behind that bush, just over that hedge,
and behind that tree, glaring and looking at him, and ready to rush
forth again as soon as they thought he was sufficiently off his guard.
"Back!" he roared again, striking out with his fist as they rose only a
couple of yards ahead. "Back! an' be damned to you," as a whole swarm
larger and larger, so that they lighted up the night, came rushing round
him.


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