She had now a very little way to go, and her grip on her staff tightened as she hurried on.
A sharp bend in the road brought her in sight of the Ship. She could see the lights from the kitchen gleaming through the trees. She pressed on for a few more yards and then stopped suddenly and, holding her breath, stood rigid for a second, listening.
There was silence everywhere and the old woman shifted uneasily.
“No noise?” she muttered. “No noise? What has come to the Ship on sailing night that all should be so still?”
Keeping her eyes fixed on the lighted window, she hastened on to the yard gates. There she paused again. The Ship was silent as before, and then, as she stood there watching, the door opened and a slim figure stood silhouetted against the bright background for a second and then staggered out toward her.
Without further thought Nan strode forward, her staff upraised.
Hardly had she moved, however, when Hal’s terrible scream rang out through the open doorway.
The old woman sprang forward, a faint inkling of what had happened flashing through her mind.
Dick did not see her until she was almost on top of him. He came across the yard dazed and horrified, conscious of one thing only—that in a fit of rage he had killed the one woman he had ever loved.
The knife, still sticky and uncleaned, hung from his fingers, and the light from the window fell upon it as Nan came up to him.