Unseen, a mysterious figure hurried on after them, keeping well in the
shadow of the trees fringing the side of the road.
The dwarf drove the dogs down a lonely side lane to the village, and came
to the shed where lay the uncomely thing he had called brother. He felt
for a spot where there was a loose board, forced it and another with his
strong fingers, and crawled in. Reappearing with the dead body, he bore
it in his huge arms to the stoneboat: a midget carrying a giant. He
covered up the face, and, returning to the shed, placed his coat against
the boards to deaden the sound, and hammered them tight again with a
stone, after having straightened the grass about. Returning, he found the
dogs cowering with fear, for one of them had pushed the cloth off the
dead man's face with his nose, and death exercised its weird dominion
over them. They crouched together, whining and tugging at the traces.
With a persuasive word he started them away.
The pursuing, watchful figure followed at a distance, on up the road, on
over the little hills, on into the high hills, the dogs carrying along
steadily the grisly load. And once their driver halted them, and sat in
the grey gloom and dust beside the dead body.
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