There had flashed upon his brain the idea that
little Lizzie Branthwaite had betrayed him.
"I reckon it must have been that hang-gallows of a tailor--that Sim,"
he said, perspiring from head to foot.
"And he's here to carry tidings of our coming. Push on--follow the
man--heed this blockhead no longer."
VI.
The procession of mourners, with Robbie Anderson and the mare at its
head, had walked slowly down Borrowdale after the men on foot had
turned back towards Withburn. Following the course of the winding
Derwent, they had passed the villages of Stonethwaite and Seathwaite,
and in two hours from the time they set out from Shoulthwaite they had
reached the foot of Stye Head Pass. The brightness of noon had now
given place to the chill leaden atmosphere of a Cumbrian December.
In the bed of the dale they were sheltered from the wind, but they saw
the mists torn into long streaks overhead, and knew that the storm had
not abated. When they came within easy range of the top of the great
gap between the mountains over which they were to pass, they saw for a
moment a man's figure clearly outlined against the sky.
Pages:
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212