SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 400 | Next

MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Robert Falconer"

Its claws were in his shoulder, and its
mouth was in the act of seeking his throat. Before it had fixed its
fangs, however, he had its throat in one hand, and sought his knife
with the other. A terrible struggle followed; but regardless of the
tearing claws, he found and opened his knife. He had made one
futile stab, and was drawing it for a surer, when, with a spring of
the whole body, and one wildly-contorted effort, the creature
twisted its neck from his hold, and with something betwixt a scream
and a howl, darted from him. Again he heard the door open; again
the wind blew in upon him, and it continued blowing; a sheet of
spray dashed across the floor, and over his face. He sprung from
his couch and bounded to the door.
'It was a wild night--dark, but for the flash of whiteness from the
waves as they broke within a few yards of the cottage; the wind was
raving, and the rain pouring down the air. A gruesome sound as of
mingled weeping and howling came from somewhere in the dark. He
turned again into the hut and closed the door, but could find no way
of securing it.
'The lamp was nearly out, and he could not be certain whether the
form of the young woman was upon the bench or not. Overcoming a
strong repugnance, he approached it, and put out his hands--there
was nothing there. He sat down and waited for the daylight: he
dared not sleep any more.
'When the day dawned at length, he went out yet again, and looked
around.


Pages:
388 389 390 391 392 393 394 395 396 397 398 399 400 401 402 403 404 405 406 407 408 409 410 411 412