We passed ruined houses, still smoking, but Penelope did not see them. And once I saw a dead man lying near a blackened cellar; and a dead hound near him.
Long before we came in sight of Johnstown I could hear the distant quaver of the tocsin, where, on the fort, the iron bell rang ceaselessly its melancholy warning.
And after a while I saw a spire above distant woods, and the setting sun brilliant on gilt weather-vanes.
I bent over Penelope: "We arrive," I whispered.
One little hand stole out and drew aside the collar of the cloak; and she turned her head and saw the roofs and chimneys shining red in the westering sun.
"Jack," she said faintly.
"I listen, beloved."
"Douw Fonda is dead."
"Hush! I know it, love."
"Douw Fonda is with God since sunrise," she whispered.