The shock was no slight one, but she struggled to her feet, and heard,

as she tore the covering from her head, a report as of a pistol shot.

The next moment she lost her footing, and fell back. She alighted on the

place from which she had raised herself, and was not hurt. But the jolt,

which had jerked her from her feet, and the subsequent motion, disclosed

the truth. Before she had entirely released her head from the folds of

the cloak, she knew that she was in a carriage, whirled along behind

swift horses; and that the peril was real, and not of the moment,

momentary!

This was horror enough. But it was not all. One wild look round, and her

eyes began to penetrate the gloom of the closely shut carriage--and she

shrank into her corner. She checked the rising sob that preluded a storm

of rage and tears, stayed the frenzied impulse to shriek, to beat on the

doors, to do anything that might scare the villains; she sat frozen,

staring, motionless. For on the seat beside her, almost touching her,

was a man.

In the dim light it was not easy to make out more than his figure. He

sat huddled up in his corner, his wig awry, one hand to his face; gazing

at her, she fancied, between his fingers, enjoying the play of her rage,

her agitation, her disorder. He did not move or speak when she

discovered him, but in the circumstances that he was a man was enough.

The violence with which she had been treated, the audacity of such an

outrage in daylight and on the highway, the closed and darkened

carriage, the speed at which they travelled, all were grounds for alarm

as serious as a woman could feel; and Julia, though she was a brave

woman, felt a sudden horror come over her. None the less was her mind

made up; if the man moved nearer to her, if he stretched out so much as

his hand towards her, she would tear his face with her fingers. She sat

with them on her lap and felt them as steel to do her bidding.

The carriage rumbled on, and still he did not move. From her corner she

watched him, her eyes glittering with excitement, her breath coming

quick and short. Would he never move? In truth not three minutes had

elapsed since she discovered him beside her; but it seemed to her that

she had sat there an age watching him; ay, three ages. The light was dim

and untrustworthy, stealing in through a crack here and a crevice there.

The carriage swayed and shook with the speed at which it travelled. More

than once she thought that the man's hand, which rested on the seat

beside him, a fat white hand, hateful, dubious, was moving, moving

slowly and stealthily along the cushion towards her; and she waited

shuddering, a scream on her lips. The same terror which, a while before,

had frozen the cry in her throat, now tried her in another way. She

longed to speak, to shriek, to stand up, to break in one way or any way

the hideous silence, the spell that bound her. Every moment the strain

on her nerves grew tenser, the fear lest she should swoon, more

immediate, more appalling; and still the man sat in his corner,

motionless, peeping at her through his fingers, leering and biding

his time.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024