Her voice was extinguished by the noise of wheels and steam. Luke,
exhausted, was compelled to relax his hold. The rest of the carriages
passed him with accumulated speed and he watched the train disappear.
In his excitement he had advanced far beyond the limits of the
platform. He found himself standing in a clump of yellow rag-wort,
just behind his own stone-cutter’s shed.
He gazed up the track, along which the tantalizing lady had been
so inexorably snatched away. The rails had a dull whitish glitter
but their look was bleak and grim. They suggested, in their narrow
merciless perspective, cutting the pastures in twain, the presence
of some remorseless mechanical Will carving its purpose, blindly and
pitilessly, out of the innocent waywardness of thoughtless living
things.
An immense and indefinable foreboding passed, like the insertion of
a cold, dead finger, through the heart of the young man. Fantastic
and terrible images pursued one another through his agitated brain.
He saw his brother lying submerged in Hullaway Pond, while a group
of frightened children stood, in white pinafores, stared at him with
gaping mouths. He saw himself arriving upon this scene. He even went
so far as to repeat to himself the sort of cry that such a sight might
naturally draw from his lips, his insatiable dramatic sense making
use, in this way, of his very panic, to project its irrepressible
puppet-show. His brother’s words, “Young man, I will never forgive
you for this,” rose luridly before him. He saw them written along
the edge of a certain dark cloud which hung threateningly over the
Hullaway horizon. He felt precisely what he would feel when he saw
them--luminously phosphorescent--in the indescribable mud and greenish
weeds that surrounded his brother’s dead face. A sickening sense of
loss and emptiness went shivering through him. He felt as though
nothing in the world was of the least importance except the life of
James Andersen.
With hurried steps he recrossed the line, repassed the turn-stile,
and began following the direction taken by his brother just two hours
before. Never had the road to Hullaway seemed so long!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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