7/27 The bridge was down now, for peaceful days had come to Zenda; the pipe was gone, and the dungeon's window, though still barred, was uncovered. The night was clear and fine, and the still water gleamed fitfully as the moon, half-full, escaped from or was hidden by passing clouds. Sapt stood staring out gloomily, beating his knuckles on the stone sill. The fresh air was there, but the fresh idea tarried. What he had seen, or seemed dimly to see, is a sight common enough on the surface of water--large circular eddies, widening from a centre; a stone thrown in makes them, or a fish on the rise. |