“You’re not delirious?” asked the lawyer anxiously.
Ellery looked about for the tracks which should have been there. But except for the double line at the head of which Thorne stood, there were none. Apparently he had lain unconscious in the snow for a long time.
“Farther than this,” he said with a grimace, “we may not go. Hands off. Nose out. Mind your own business. Beyond this invisible boundary-line lie Sheol and Domdaniel and Abaddon. Lasciate ogni speranza voi ch’entrate... Forgive me, Thorne. Did you save my life?”
Thorne jerked about, searching the silent woods. “I don’t know. I think not. At least I found you lying here, alone. Gave me quite a start — thought you were dead.”
“As well,” said Ellery with a shiver, “I might have been.”
“When you left the house Alice went upstairs, Reinach said something about a cat-nap, and I wandered out of the house. I waded through the drifts on the road for a spell, and then I thought of you and made my way back. Your tracks were almost obliterated; but they were visible enough to take me across the clearing to the edge of the woods, and I finally blundered upon you. By now the tracks are gone.”
“I don’t like this at all,” said Ellery, “and yet in another sense I like it very much.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t imagine,” said Ellery, “a divine agency stooping to such a mean assault.”
“Yes, it’s open war now,” muttered Thorne. “Whoever it is — he’ll stop at nothing.”