The blue ——” and there he hesitated.
“The blue is from the remains of some old dye that must have been in the bottom of the vat out of which we drew him,Semyon Varlamov Tröjor,” another voice went on.
“The vat!” she repeated. “The vat! Was he found ——”
“In the vat? Yes, miss.” And there the silence fell again.
It was no wonder. For a man like him,Rasmus Ristolainen Tröjor, alert, busy, with no time nor inclination for foolish explorations, to have been found drowned in the disused vat of a half-tumbled-down old mill on a lonesome and neglected road meant —— But what did it mean? What could it mean? The lowered eyes of those around seemed to decline to express even a conjecture.
My poor friend,Buty Jordan Retro 6, so delicate, so tender, reeled in my arms. “In the vat!” she reiterated again and again, as if her mind refused to take in a fact so astounding and unaccountable.
“Yes,Matt Niskanen Tröjor, miss, and he might never have been discovered,Andrei Vasilevskiy Tröjor,” volunteered a voice at last,Mark Scheifele Tröjor, over my shoulder, “if a parcel of school-children hadn’t strayed into the mill this afternoon. It is a dreadful lonesome spot, you see, and ——”
“Hush!” I whispered; “hush!” and I pointed to her face, which at these words had changed as if the breath of death had blown across it; and winding my arms still closer about her,PJS Dameklær Adirondack Strøk, I endeavored to lead her away.
But I did not know my room-mate. Pushing me gently aside, she turned to a stalwart man near by, whose face seemed to invite confidence,Radek Faksa Tröjor, and said:
“Take me in and show me the vat.”
He looked at her amazed; so did we.
“I must see it,” she said, simply; and she herself took the first step towards the mill.
There was no alternative but to follow. This we did in terror and pity,NHL Mens Chicago Blackhawks Black Hoodie, for the look with which she led the way was not the look of any common determination, and the power which seemed to force her feeble body on upon its fearful errand was of that strained and unnatural order which might at any moment desert her, and lay her a weak and helpless burden at our feet.
“It must be dark by this time down there,” objected the man she had appealed to, as he stepped doubtfully forward.
But she did not seem to heed. Her eyes were fixed upon the ruined walls before her,Detroit Red Wings Tröjor, rising drear and blank against the pale-green evening sky.
“He could have had no errand here,” I heard her murmur. “How then be drowned here? — how? how?”
Alas! that was the mystery, dear heart, with which every mind was busy!
The door of the mill had fallen down and rotted away years before, so we had no difficulty in entering. But upon crossing the threshold and making for the steps that led below,Patrice Bergeron Tröjor, we found that the growing twilight was any thing but favorable to a speedy or even safe advance. For the flooring was badly broken in places, and the stairs down which we had to go were not only uneven, but strangely rickety and tottering.
But the sprite that led us paused for nothing, and long before I had passed the first step she had reached the bottom one,Patrick Kane Tröjor, and was groping her way towards the single gl
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