“I feel as if they were poisoning me amongst them,” said Gartram quite savagely. “Not trying to put me out of the way, are they, for the sake of my coin? How I do hate to see that woman going about like a great black cat. Bah! I’m as full of fancies as a child.”
Glyddyr lit his cigar and took out his telegram again and read it.
“My congratulations. Hope you put it on heavy. I did. Coming down.—Gellow.”
The curse which Glyddyr uttered was, metaphorically speaking, glowing enough to fuse the sand.
The next minute he began walking swiftly along under the towering granite cliffs, so as to get out of sight and hearing while he gave vent to his feelings, for he felt that he could not command himself.
The telegram meant so much.
“I shall have to kill that man before I have done. Yes; I shall have to kill that man,” said Glyddyr.
He started and looked up, for, plainly heard, some one seemed to repeat his words, “Kill that man.”
“Bah!” he cried impatiently, as he looked in the direction from which the sounds came, to find he was facing a huge wall of rock. “Frightened at echoes now!”