I must have been in this house a full quarter of an hour, and had only

seen one end, and I had turned into a cross walk of red tiles looking to

right and left, when, just beyond the stem of one peach-tree whose fruit

was ripening and had ripened fast, I saw just as it had fallen one great

juicy peach with a bruise on its side, and a crack through which its

delicious essence was escaping. Pale creamy was the downy skin, with a

bloom of softest crimson on the side beyond the bruise and crack, and

making a soft hissing noise as I drew in my breath--a noise that I meant

to express, "Oh, what a pity!"--I stooped down and reached over to pick

up the damaged fruit, and to lay it upon one of the open shelves where I

had seen a couple more already placed.

I heard no step, had seen no one in the place, but just as I leaned over

to get the fruit there was a swishing sound as of something parting the

air with great swiftness, and I uttered a cry of pain, for I felt a

sensation as if a sharp knife had suddenly fallen upon my back, and that

knife was red hot, and, after it had divided it, had seared the flesh.

I had taken the peach in my hand when the pain made me involuntarily

crush it before it fell from my fingers upon the rich earth; and,

grinding my teeth with rage and agony, I started round to face whoever

it was that had struck me so cruel a blow.




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