"Jim! Jim!" again she cried. And behind her she heard a strange, unsteady whispering voice.
"'On equal terms!' That's what he said--I did not understand. He said, 'On equal terms.'"
And even as Glynn spoke, both Linda and he saw Thresk throw up his arms and sink suddenly beneath the bog. Linda ran to the door, stumbling as she ran, and with a queer, sobbing noise in her throat.
Glynn caught her by the arm.
"It is of no use. You know. Round the sapling--there is no chance of rescue. It is my fault, I should have understood. He had no fear of Channing--if only he could meet him on equal terms."
Linda stared at Glynn. For a little while the meaning of the words did not sink into her mind.
"He said that!" she cried. "And you did not tell me." She crept back to the fireplace and cowered in front of it, shivering.
"But he said he would come back to me," she said in the voice of a child who has been deceived. "Yes, Jim said he would come back to me."
Of course it was a chance, accident, coincidence, a breath of wind--call it what you will, except what Linda Thresk and Glynn called it. But even as she uttered her complaint, "He said he would come back to me," the latch of the door clicked loudly. There was a rush of cold air into the room. The door swung slowly inwards and stood wide open.
Linda sprang to her feet. Both she and Glynn turned to the open door. The white fog billowed into the room. Glynn felt the hair stir and move upon his scalp. He stood transfixed. Was it possible? he asked himself. Had Thresk indeed come back to fight for Linda once more, and to fight now as he had fought the first time--on equal terms? He stood expecting the white fog to shape itself into the likeness of a man. And then he heard a wild scream of laughter behind him. He turned in time to catch Linda as she fell.