The two travellers began to retrace their steps towards Port-of-Spain.
Feliciana was sad and pensive; the guide was less talkative than before, and after half-an-hour’s walk, the barking of the dog still reached their ears.
CHAPTER XXVII.
——“Who’s there?
Who is it that consorts, so late, the dead?”
Romeo and Juliet.
Appadocca stood for a while, and watched his men, who, in military order, were marching down the dark and solitary road. When even their footsteps could no longer be heard; he cast one more look on the desolated villa, that still shone resplendently under the many lights which burnt within, and that now presented the appearance of a place, in which the pleasures of a marriage feast, may have been broken in upon, by some unexpected and chilling calamity.
What ever reflections he may have made, while he gazed at the house before him, were short and transitory and perhaps unpleasant, for he suddenly turned away his head, and bent his steps rapidly towards the beautiful Savannah, that opened before the splendid house of James Willmington.
Having immediately approached the Savannah, Appadocca climbed over the iron rails that enclose it, and got within.