Across the downs, like a fisherman drawing in his nets, the sun was setting. The hut was vague with dusk. Like the crescent of a young moon, Santa had wakened and was rising.
VII
You promised to save me.”
“I will if I can.”
She knotted her hands in mental anguish.
“You must. Any moment he may return. Have you thought of nothing?”
Leaning across his shoulder she lifted the ragged curtain, peering out at the fading landscape; as she gazed, her face stiffened and her eyes became fixed in a leaden stare. Not more than thirty yards distant, with his back toward them, the Major was standing. He had followed their trail still closer.
“We can't escape,” she panted. “He'll be there all night, to-morrow, forever.”
“We can. Stop here and trust me.”
Rising stealthily, leaving the door ajar behind him, he slipped out of the hut. In the twilight he halted, breathing in the sweet evening fragrance. Without further secrecy, he strode toward the Major.