There was something between us more potent than the dread of a dead man--something inimical between us two, the dead and the living.

I staggered away and ran reeling to the road, plunging blindly through the creek.
"About two hundred yards further down the road was a small lodge at one of the entrances of Rowchester.

It was towards this I turned and ran.
The door was closed, and I beat upon it fiercely with clenched fists.
The woman who answered it stared at me strangely.

I suppose that I was a wild-looking object.
"It's Mr.Ducaine, isn't it ?" she exclaimed.

"Why, sakes alive! what's wrong, sir ?" "A dead man in the marshes," I faltered.
She was interested enough, but her comely weather-hardened face reflected none of the horror which she must have seen on mine.
"Lordy me! whereabouts, sir ?" she inquired.
I pointed with a trembling forefinger.