s were not
those of an Indian, although the low bushes between us and the house
shadow, prevented my distinguishing more than his mere outline. It was
only when he lifted his head into the gleam of light, and took hasty
survey through the window of the scene within, that I recognized the
face of De Artigny. He lingered scarcely a moment, evidently satisfied
with what he saw, and then drew silently back, hesitating a brief
space, as though debating his next movement.

I waited breathless, wondering what his purpose could be, half
inclined to intercept and question him. Was he seeking to serve my
cause? to learn the truth of my relationship with Cassion? or did he
have some other object, some personal feud in which he sought revenge?
The first thought sent the warm blood leaping through my veins; the
second left me shivering as if with sudden chill.

Even as I stood, hesitating, uncertain, he turned, and retraced his
steps along the same path of his approach, passing me not ten steps
away, and vanishing into the wood. I thought he paused at the edge,
and bent down, yet before I found voice, or determination to stop him,
he had disappeared. My courage returned, spurred by curiosity. Why
should he take so roundabout a way to reach the shore? What was that
black, shapeless thing he had paused to examine? I could see something
there, dark and motionless, though to my eyes no more than a shadow.

I ventured toward it, creeping behind the bushes bordering the path,
conscious of an odd fear as I drew closer. Yet it was not until I
emerged from the fringe of shrubbery that even the faintest conception
of what the object I saw was occurred to me. Then I stopped, frozen by
horror, for I confronted a dead body.

For an instant I could not utter a sound, or move a muscle of my body.
My hands clung convulsively to a nearby branch, thus supporting me
erect in spite of trembling limbs, and I stared at the grewsome
object, black and almost shapeless in the moonlight. Only part of the
trunk was revealed, the lower portion concealed by bushes, yet I could
no longer doubt it was a man's body--a large, heavily built man, his
hat still crushed on his head, but with face turned away.

What courage overcame my horror, and urged me forward I cannot tell; I
seemed impelled by some power not my own, a vague fear of recognition
tugging at my heart. I crept nearer, almost inch by inch, trembling at
every noise, dreading to discover the truth. A