that
silent, living creature there so close? And then he heard again the
sound of breathing, quick and scared, like the fluttering of a bird; in a
moment he was staring in the dark at an empty hammock.

He stayed beside the empty hammock till he could bear uncertainty no
longer. But as he crossed the lawn the sky was rent from end to end by
jagged lightning, rain spattered him from head to foot, and with a
deafening crack the thunder broke.

He sought the smoking-room, but, recoiling at the door, went to his own
room, and threw himself down on the bed. The thunder groaned and
sputtered in long volleys; the lightning showed him the shapes of things
within the room, with a weird distinctness that rent from them all
likeness to the purpose they were made for, bereaved them of utility, of
their matter-of-factness, presented them as skeletons, abstractions, with
indecency in their appearance, like the naked nerves and sinews of a leg
preserved in, spirit. The sound of the rain against the house stunned
his power of thinking, he rose to shut his windows; then, returning to
his bed, threw himself down again. He stayed there till the storm was
over, in a kind of stupor; but when the boom of the retreating thunder
grew every minute less distinct, he rose. Then for the first time he saw
something white close by the door.

It was a note:

I have made a mistake. Please forgive me, and go away.--ANTONIA.

CHAPTER XXXII

WILDERNESS

When he had read this note, Shelton put it down beside his sleeve-links
on his dressing table, stared in the mirror at himself, and laughed. But
his lips soon stopped him laughing; he threw himself upon his bed and
pressed his face into the pillows. He lay there half-dressed throughout
the night, and when he rose, soon after dawn, he had not made his mind up
what to do. The only thing he knew for certain was that he must not meet
Antonia.

At last he penned the following:

I have had a sleepless night with toothache, and think it best to run up
to the dentist at once. If a tooth must come out, the sooner the better.

He addressed it to Mrs. Dennant, and left it on his table. After doing
this he threw himself once more upon his bed, and this time fell into a
doze.

He woke with a start, dressed, and let himself quietly out. The likeness
of his going to that of Ferrand struck him. "Both outcasts now," he
thought.

He tramped on till noon without knowing or caring where he w