But, before the end, he wanted to kill this man, if he
could. He caught Castine's head in his hands, and, with a last effort,
twisted it back with a sudden jerk.
All at once, with the effort, blood spurted from his mouth into the
other's face. He shivered, tottered and fell back, as Castine struck
blindly into space. For a moment Ferrol swayed back and forth, stretched
out his hands convulsively and gasped, trying to speak, the blood welling
from his lips. His eyes were wild, anxious and yearning, his face deadly
pale and covered with a cold sweat. Presently he collapsed, like a
loosened bundle, upon the steps.
Castine, blinded with blood, turned round, and the light of the fire upon
his open mouth made him appear to grin painfully--an involuntary grimace
of terror.
At that instant a rifle shot rang out from the shrubbery, and Castine
sprang from the ground and fell at Ferrol's feet. Then, with a
contortive shudder, he rolled over and over the steps, and lay face
downward upon the ground-dead.
A girl ran forward from the trees, with a cry, pushing her way through to
Ferrol's body. Lifting up his head, she called to him in an agony of
entreaty. But he made no answer.
Pages:
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104