“Well?” said Hodge.
“Strange,” said Merry. “But the haze remains as deep as ever.”
“Deeper, if anything.”
“I feel like getting some air,” said Frank.
Hodge would have accompanied him when he rose to go out, but instinct told Bart that Merry chose to be alone.
Frank passed along the deep wood path till he came to the open. The moon had risen in the east, and was shedding its silver radiance into Pleasant Valley. The little lake lay with a shimmering path of silver moonshine across it.
The scene was calm and peaceful enough. Frank stood on the edge of the shadowy woods and gazed upon the quiet valley. From far, far away came the cry of some prowling wild beast, but that was the only sound to break the calm of the peaceful night.
“She said the graves were up this way,” Frank murmured. “I will see if I can find them.”
After a time he came upon them. They were not far apart, with a great tree rising near at hand. One had a granite stone at its head, and on the stone had been crudely chiseled the name “Lucy.”
Frank knew that was the grave of Felicia’s mother. The other grave had been lately made, and no stone rose above it.