Those coming from the
river approached in a direct line from one spot; those going to it
advanced in the same line and to the same spot. A ring of lanterns marked
it. It was near, very near where the heavy waters fell into a deep pool.
No one now spoke of Anitra; she had evidently been warned by her first
encounter to move with less precipitancy.
As he approached the place of central interest, he moved more warily too.
The ground was very bad; he had never walked in such slush. Once and
again he tripped; once he came down upon his face. The boom of the waters
was now very near; he could see nothing but the flicker of the lanterns,
but he felt the near rush of the stream, and presently was at its very
edge. Startled by the nearness of his escape, for he had almost lost
his footing by his sudden halt, he started back, looked again at the
lanterns, took a turn and came upon the dozen or more men bending over
the edge of the stream where the waters ran most swiftly. But he did not
join them. Another sight attracted his eyes and presently himself. This
was the sight of Ransom crouched on the wet earth, staring down at a slip
of paper he held in his hands. A lantern set in the sand at his feet sent
its feeble rays over his face and possibly over the paper; but he was no
longer reading it, he was simply so lost in its sorrowful contents that
all power of movement had deserted him.
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