as all engrossed in his work, with his back
to the cottage, when there emerged from the half-open door the same
attenuated creature whom I had seen in the morning. I could perceive now
that he was a man of sixty, wrinkled, bent, and feeble, with sparse,
grizzled hair, and long, colourless face. With a cringing, sidelong
gait, he shuffled toward his companion, who was unconscious of his
approach until he was close upon him. His light footfall or his
breathing may have finally given notice of his proximity, for the worker
sprang round and faced him. Each made a quick step toward the other, as
though in greeting, and then--even now I feel the horror of the
instant--the tall man rushed upon and knocked his companion to the earth,
then whipping up his body, ran with great speed over the intervening
ground and disappeared with his burden into the house.

Case hardened as I was by my varied life, the suddenness and violence of
the thing made me shudder. The man's age, his feeble frame, his humble
and deprecating manner, all cried shame against the deed. So hot was my
anger, that I was on the point of striding up to the cabin, unarmed as I
was, when the sound of voices from within showed me that the victim had
recovered. The sun had sunk beneath the horizon, and all was grey, save
a red feather in the cap of Pennigent. Secure in the failing light, I
approached near and strained my ears to catch what was passing. I could
hear the high, querulous voice of the elder man and the deep, rough
monotone of his assailant, mixed with a strange metallic jangling and
clanking. Presently the surgeon came out, locked the door behind him and
stamped up and down in the twilight, pulling at his hair and brandishing
his arms, like a man demented. Then he set off, walking rapidly up the
valley, and I soon lost sight of him among the rocks.

When his footsteps had died away in the distance, I drew nearer to the
cottage. The prisoner within was still pouring forth a stream of words,
and moaning from time to time like a man in pain. These words resolved
themselves, as I approached, into prayers--shrill, voluble prayers,
pattered forth with the intense earnestness of one who sees impending an
imminent danger. There was to me something inexpressibly awesome in this
gush of solemn entreaty from the lonely sufferer, meant for no human ear,
and jarring upon the silence of the night. I was still pondering whether
I should mix myself in the