BOOK THE FOURTH: A TURNING
Chapter 1: Setting Traps (continued)
'Lock ho! Lock!' at intervals all day, and 'Lock ho! Lock!' thrice in
the ensuing night, but no return of Bradley. The second day was
sultry and oppressive. In the afternoon, a thunderstorm came up,
and had but newly broken into a furious sweep of rain when he
rushed in at the door, like the storm itself.
'You've seen him with her!' exclaimed Riderhood, starting up.
'I have.'
'Where?'
'At his journey's end. His boat's hauled up for three days. I heard
him give the order. Then, I saw him wait for her and meet her. I
saw them'--he stopped as though he were suffocating, and began
again--'I saw them walking side by side, last night.'
'What did you do?'
'Nothing.'
'What are you going to do?'
He dropped into a chair, and laughed. Immediately afterwards, a
great spirt of blood burst from his nose.
'How does that happen?' asked Riderhood.
'I don't know. I can't keep it back. It has happened twice--three
times--four times--I don't know how many times--since last night.
I taste it, smell it, see it, it chokes me, and then it breaks out like
this.'
He went into the pelting rain again with his head bare, and,
bending low over the river, and scooping up the water with his two
hands, washed the blood away. All beyond his figure, as
Riderhood looked from the door, was a vast dark curtain in solemn
movement towards one quarter of the heavens. He raised his head
and came back, wet from head to foot, but with the lower parts of
his sleeves, where he had dipped into the river, streaming water.
'Your face is like a ghost's,' said Riderhood.
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