“Sir,” said I, “I would speak with you....”
“Well?” asked he, as I stopped.
“Ambrose, your Secretary....” I began, and stuck again.
“Well?” said he. “What of Ambrose?”
“Spare him——”
I broke off; for my heart died at the terrors of his aspect, at the fearful anger that suddenly blazed in his eyes.
“Begone!” cried he. And I threw myself up the remaining steps of the ladder, and staggered out into the wood.
CHAPTER XXVII.
FRANCIS FINDS HIS BROTHER’S WATCH.
Night had fallen this while, and the hollow in the thicket was black as pitch. I groped my way forth, and, coming to the verge of the swamp, searched for and found my stick that I had set up there. Hereupon I stood and looked about me, dazed and trembling.
The air was thick and fœtid with the mist from the swamp. The heavens were overcast with black clouds. Two shadowy night birds flew continually in wavering and interlacing curves. A sort of rat-like creatures scuttled in and out the woods. A loud screeching cry, having a strange vicious note in it, thrust in every now and again upon the continual croaking of frogs. It was borne in upon my mind, with terror, that this was the voice of the Toad.