Page:Ethel Churchill 3.pdf/262

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260
ETHEL CHURCHILL.

Oh, for a human face to have bent over his own! He ceased his shrieks suddenly, he found that he exhausted his strength; the morning had now broken, and if he could but live a little longer, some one must pass; and, so strong was the craving for humanity, that it was as if, let any one come near, and he must be saved. But the cold dews rose heavily on his forehead, a feeling of suffocation was in his throat, while his eyes swam, and the objects near began to whirl round with frightful velocity.

He raised his hand to clear the mists from his sight, but his strength failed in the effort, and his hand dropped heavily to the ground with a noise that, to his own ear, sounded like thunder! Painfully, he forced his hot eyelids to unclose, and his distended orbs sought for some object whereon to fix; they met the patch of grass, yet red with the blood of Walter Maynard. It seemed to rise in judgment against him; he could not take his eyes away from the guilty colour which began to spread; it rose, colouring the heavens with its fearful