A loud shout from below caused him to halt. Burk, the
ferryman, had called out through his cupped hands:
"What say?"
The wind bore the answer from an unseen speaker in the night, clear
and distinct: "We've got her!"
CHAPTER XXII
THE THROWER OF STONES
An icy chill, as of a great gust of wind, swept through and over
Courtney Thane. His mouth seemed suddenly to fill with water. He
could not move. The men by the forge ran swiftly down the hill. The
tall woman turned and after a moment followed the men, stopping in
the middle of the road a few rods above the landing. She was still
standing there when Courtney recovering his power of locomotion
struck off rapidly in the direction of Dowd's Tavern. Halfway home
he came to an abrupt halt. An inexplicable irresistible force was
drawing his mind and body back to the river's edge. He did not want
to go back there and see--Rosabel. He tried not to turn his steps
in that direction, and yet something like a magnet was dragging
him. A sort of fascination,--the fascination that goes with dread,
and horror, and revulsion--took hold of him....He moved slowly,
hesitatingly at first, then swiftly, not directly back over the
ground he had just covered but by a circuitous route that took him
through the lot at the rear of the forge. He made his way stealthily
down the slope, creeping along behind a thick hedge of hazel brush
to a point just above the ferry landing and to the left of the old
dilapidated wharf.
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