The blue-jeans breeches, streaked with the blood of many a fish, were drawn on in a twinkling. The great squatter boots quickly covered the horny feet, and trembling, Ben waited for Myra to lead him from the cabin.
"Where be we a-goin'?" he asked in a whisper.
"I takes ye 'cross the lake to Ludlowville, and then we goes into the hills. A awful storm air a-scootin' along from the north, but we can't wait, for ye'll be took."
By this time they were nearing the shore. The autumn lightning shot out from the sky, veering to the north and unmasking the black, raging lake and the distant city. A heavy roll of awe-inspiring thunder followed the flash. The man and woman did not speak until the flat boat topped the breaking waves.
"The storm air a-goin' to be worse," shouted Ben, scanning the dark clouds. "It air foolhardy to try it, ain't it, Myry?"
"Yep; but we go, all the same. I stays with ye, Ben!"
He did not answer to this, nor did he ask a question then about the return of Ezra. He was satisfied that what he had supposed was the boy's wraith--the disembodied spirit of the lad he had thrown into the Hoghole--was the living Ezra Longman. On his way home from the Skinner hut, Ben had planned a terrible revenge upon the student and Tessibel, but the advent of this unforeseen discovery had placed his enemies beyond his reach. The thought of Tess brought a rasp from his throat.
The creaking oars, under his experienced fingers, carried the boat far from the shadowy shore. Through the frequent lightning he could plainly see Myra in the stern, holding to the child. It was all ending differently from what he had hoped. That he had killed the gamekeeper he knew well, but, when Ezra Longman had disappeared into the Hoghole, Ben thought it took from the earth the only witness of his deed.
On and on through the night sped the boat, until Myra and Ben could see the lights on the college hill. Here and there in the valley beyond, the lightning revealed a farmhouse, the inmates of which were quietly sleeping.
Presently Ben spoke: "What hes Ezy been a-sayin'?"
"Nothin' but that ye throwed him in the Hoghole, and tried to kill him, and that ye killed the gamekeeper."
"Where hes he been all this time?"
"I dunno. He air awful sick, and Ma put him to bed."
Their voices rose high above the shrieking of the wind. Myra's last words were screamed out. The boat tossed like a bit of tinder, but it was in the hands of a fisherman: Ben knew how to keep it in and out of the troughs of the waves. Once the boat lurched mightily, and Myra gave a frightened cry, wedging the child between her knees. Higher and higher rolled the waves.