Jones with
genuine interest.
"I had that notion, strongly. I do believe he is there now."
"And you don't mind?"
"No!"
"You don't!" Mr. Jones stopped to wonder. "You are an extraordinary
man," he said suspiciously, and moved on, touching elbows with Heyst.
In the latter's breast dwelt a deep silence, the complete silence of
unused faculties. At this moment, by simply shouldering Mr. Jones, he
could have thrown him down and put himself, by a couple of leaps, beyond
the certain aim of the revolver; but he did not even think of that. His
very will seemed dead of weariness. He moved automatically, his head
low, like a prisoner captured by the evil power of a masquerading
skeleton out of a grave. Mr. Jones took charge of the direction. They
fetched a wide sweep. The echoes of distant thunder seemed to dog their
footsteps.
"By the by," said Mr. Jones, as if unable to restrain his curiosity,
"aren't you anxious about that--ouch!--that fascinating creature to whom
you owe whatever pleasure you can find in our visit?"
"I have placed her in safety," said Heyst. "I--I took good care of
that."
Mr Jones laid a hand on his arm.
"You have? Look! is that what you mean?"
Heyst raised his head. In the flicker of lightning the desolation of the
cleared ground on his left leaped out and sank into the night, together
with the elusive forms of things distant, pale, unearthly.
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