The Broad Highway - Page 73/374

How long I stood staring at this, I cannot say, but, all at once,

the leaves of the tree were agitated as by a breath of wind, and

rustled with a sound indescribably desolate, and from the dark

mass rose the long-drawn, mournful cry of some night bird.

Heedless of my direction, I hurried away, yet, ever when I had

left it far behind, I glanced back more than once ere its

towering branches were lost to my view.

So I walked on through the shadows, past trees that were not

trees, and hedges that were not hedges, but frightful phantoms,

rather, lifting menacing arms above my head, and reaching after

me with clutching fingers. Time and again, ashamed of such

weakness, I cursed myself for an imaginative fool, but kept well

in the middle of the road, and grasped my staff firmly,

notwithstanding.

I had gone, perhaps, some mile or so in this way, alternately

rating and reasoning with myself, when I suddenly fancied I heard

a step behind me, and swung round upon my heel, with ready stick;

but the road stretched away empty as far as I could see. Having

looked about me on all sides, I presently went on again, yet,

immediately, it seemed that the steps began also, keeping time

with my own, now slow, now fast, now slow again; but, whenever I

turned, the road behind was apparently as empty and desolate as

ever.

I can conceive of few things more nerve-racking than the

knowledge that we are being dogged by something which we can only

guess at, and that all our actions are watched by eyes which we

cannot see. Thus, with every step, I found the situation grow

more intolerable, for though I kept a close watch behind me and

upon the black gloom of the hedges, I could see nothing. At

length, however, I came upon a gap in the hedge where was a gate,

and beyond this, vaguely outlined against a glimmer of sky, I saw

a dim figure.

Hereupon, running forward, I set my hand upon the gate, and

leaping over, found myself face to face with a man who carried a

gun across his arm. If I was startled at this sudden encounter

he was no less so, and thus we stood eyeing each other as well as

we might in the half light.

"Well," I demanded, at last, "what do you mean by following me

like this?"

"I aren't follered ye," retorted the man.

"But I heard your steps behind me."

"Not mine, master. I've sat and waited 'ere 'arf a

hour, or more, for a poachin' cove--"