The Mystery of the LocksHowe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
General
The Mystery of the Locks
Howe, E. W. (Edgar Watson)
City and town life -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Mystery fiction; Nebraska -- Fiction
Mrs. Wedge led Silas back to the gate, and, after crying softly to
herself awhile, said to him in a voice so agitated that he could
scarcely understand her,--
"It has not been heard before since they were married. I had hoped that
poor Helen had found rest at last, but her footstep on the stair this
night means--I won't say the word! It might be carried by some evil
spirit to his wife. The poor girl is at her father's, and I am afraid to
look at her. O Annie, Annie!"
* * * * *
Meanwhile the boats pursued their journey into the woods; a man in the
bow of each with a torch to direct the rowers. The underbrush was
submerged, and they made fair progress toward the line of hills opposite
the town, though they drifted about a good deal, for sometimes they were
in doubt as to their bearings, as there was nothing to guide them.
Occasionally they stopped to listen, hoping that Dorris had disabled his
boat, and was safe in some of the trees, but, hearing nothing, they
hallooed themselves, each one taking his turn until they were all
hoarse. But the rippling water laughed with joy because their voices
sounded dead in the forest lake, and seemed afraid to venture out into
the damp, noisome darkness.
Finding a place where the current was not so strong, they pulled to a
point which they believed to be above the town, calling "Halloo!
Halloo!" at every boat's length; but the devilish gurgle in the water
continued, and their voices came back to them, like hounds ordered to
enter a dangerous lair. Occasionally a waterfowl resting for the night
was disturbed, and went crashing through the branches of the trees, but
no other sound came to them, and as the hours wore away they looked at
each other in grave apprehension.
A few times, in the middle of clearings, they came upon deserted houses,
with vagrant water pouring in at the windows, only to creep out at other
windows after making a search in the rooms for lives to destroy. But
most of the people had escaped to the hills with their farm animals,
leaving their household effects to be covered with the reptiles which
had been frightened out of the thickets and tall grass, and which clung
to whatever offered them safety. Under the trees they frequently found
drifts composed of household furniture, bridges, fences, out-houses,
logs, stumps, and what not, and the desolation which reigned supreme in
that dark, damp place was relieved but little by the glare of the
torches, which made the men look like pale-faced spirits rowing about in
an eternal effort to escape.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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