"It goes before me, and guides me to the spot," he said at last, in a choking voice. He panted more violently than ever. Heavy sighs came from him—these seemed to be wrung from his very heart.
In about ten minutes the men got upon the borders of the Plain. Awdrey then turned abruptly to his left; each moment he walked faster and faster; the doctor had now almost to run to keep up with him. At last they reached the rise of ground. A great clump of alder-trees stood to the left; at the right, a little way off, was a dense belt of undergrowth. On the rising ground itself was short grass and no other vegetation. A little way off, nearly one hundred feet lower down, was a pond. The light of the moon was fully reflected here; across the smooth surface of the pond was a clear path as if of silver. When they reached the brow of this slight elevation, Awdrey stood still.
"There—it was done there," he said, pointing with his finger. "See, the picture does not move any more, but settles down upon the ground. Now we shall see the whole thing. Good God, Rumsey, fancy looking at a murder which was committed five years ago! It is going on there now all over again. There stand the two men life-size. Can't we stop them? Can we do nothing?"
"No, it is only a vision," said the doctor; "but tell me exactly what you see."
"It is too marvellous," said Awdrey. "The men move, and I hear the sound of the blows. It is extraordinary how that fellow keeps his back to me. I can't see his face if I stand here. Come, let us go downhill—if we get near the pond we can look up, and I shall get a view of him in another position."
"Come," said Rumsey. He took Awdrey's arm, and they went down the slope of ground until they almost reached the borders of the pond.
"Now is it any better?" asked the doctor. "Can you see the man's face now?"
"No, he has turned; he still keeps his back to me, the scoundrel. But oh, for God's sake see—he fights harder than ever. Ha! He has thrown Horace Frere to the ground. Now Frere is up—what a strong chap he is! Now the other man is down. No, he has risen again. Now they both stand and fight, and—Dr. Rumsey, did you see that? The man with his back to us uses his stick, straight in front of him like a bayonet, and—oh, my God!"
Awdrey covered his face with his shaking hands. In a moment he looked up again.
"Can't you see for yourself?" he cried. "Frere is on his back—in my opinion he is dead. What has happened?"