both sides. At the first step sand creaks under his shoes. He takes off his shoes and walks in his stockings. He reaches the door just at the moment the horsemen go by. They are talking. He catches the following words:
“He got up early.”
“But what if he had gone away?”
“Then his turn will come another time. I could have wished—”
He hears no more. The men are too far away now. Of whom were they talking? Who had gone to bed or ridden away? Whose turn will come another time? Who was it who wished it had been different? And what were they after on this lonely side-road, which was used only by people who come to the rest-house?
An oppressive weight burdened his head.
Could it be George?
Leiba felt his strength giving way and dropped down on the threshold. In the confusion of his head he could not hit upon a clear thought. Without knowing what he did he turned back and lighted a little lamp.
It was only a ghost of light, the wick was so nearly burned. It gave off very dim, vertical rays
