"He's dead enough now, anyway," said Drillot.
"Eh b'en! leave him where he is, and let's get away. I've heard say
there were ghosts on L'Etat, and now I know it. No good comes of
meddling with these things."
"But we ought to take him with us."
"Take him with us!" almost shrieked Peter. "And let him loose on Sark!
Why then?"
"Whatever he was last night, he's dead enough now.... Will you help me
to get him up, John Trevna?"
"Iss, sure! He's got my belt."
"Not in my boat, John Drillot," cried Peter. "Not in my boat. I've had
enough of him, pardi!" and he set off at speed for the boat.
"Don't be a fool, Peter. You, Evan Morgan, run down and stop him going.
Come on, John Trevna," and after peering cautiously down to make sure
the dead man had not moved, they dropped into the well again.
The shrivelled figure was very light, as Trevna had found. It was only
their repugnance at handling it that made their task a heavy one. One
above and one below, they managed at last to get it up above ground, and
then John Trevna slipped his belt to its middle, and carried it with one
hand down the slope to the boat.
Pages:
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322