the rock wall, yet there was no
sense of motion. The water-line dropped slowly down.

It is an unescapable fact that the whole atmosphere of the Ochakee
country is one of death. The moss-draped forests seem without life, the
rivers convey no sense of motion, the air is dead, and vegetation rots
underfoot. To-night the lagoon was without any image or indication of
life. The whole vista seemed like some dead, forgotten wasteland in a
dream--a place where living things had never come and was forever
incompatible with life.

It was a mysterious hour. The half-crescent moon rose at last, at first
a silver tinting of the skyline, a steadily growing wave of light and
then the sharply outlined moon itself above the eastern forest. The dark
shadows that were my companions took form, strengthened; again I could
see their erect figures on the gray crags and the gleam of their rifles
in their arms. The perspective widened, the rock wall seemed to extend,
stretch ever further across the lagoon, and now the sky was graying in
the East.

A moment later I heard Weldon's voice, ringing full in the hush of the
dying night, as he spoke Slatterly's name. The latter answered at once.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Let's go in. The night's over and nothing's happened. It's pretty near
bright day already."

It was true that the eastern sky had begun to be tinged with gray. I
could see the lines of my hands and the finer mechanisms of the rifle.
The hour, however, seemed later than it really was, simply because of
the effulgence of the moon. The dread atmosphere of Kastle Krags had in
a moment been wholly destroyed. Instead of a place of mystery and
peril, it was simply an old-time manor-house fronting the sea, built
between the forest and a calm lagoon.

There didn't seem any use of watching further. If the night was not yet,
in fact, completely over, the moon and the graying east gave the effect
of morning. Perhaps the fact that the outgoing tide had stilled the
lagoon had its effect too. The ominous sound of breaking waves was gone,
and it gave a perfect image of quietude and peace.

Slatterly waited an instant before he answered. "Wait a little more," he
said in a resigned tone. "But you're right--it's almost morning."

I don't think it was five minutes later that I saw Weldon leave his post
and saunter over to the sheriff's side. I suppose, bored with his task,
the time seemed much longer to him. True, the lagoon was gray, the
shadows