Читать книгу The Perfect World. A romance of strange people and strange places онлайн

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“Let’s go for a walk,” yawned his cousin. “I feel very tired to-day.”

Mrs. Warren watched them going toward the gate with apprehension in her eyes, and just as they were about to pass through, she rushed to the door. “Be you agoin’ out? Oh, do’ant ’ee go—do’ant ’ee—not to-night! I be afeared—mortal afeared.”

“Oh, we’ll take care of ourselves,” laughed Desmond. “Don’t you worry.”

“But I’m afeared.” She shivered as she spoke—but the boys laughed as they walked toward the Corlot Woods, a favourite spot of theirs.

As they crossed the stile leading to the path across the fields, they heard a dog crying pitifully. Alan, always tender-hearted towards dumb animals, stopped and looked round. Again came the mournful cry. “I think it must be across the way,” said Desmond. Alan crossed the road, and then called out to his cousin.

“It’s Slater’s pup”—he bent over it closely—“Why its leg is broken and its fur is singed,” he added in an awe-struck tone.

A rustling sounded behind him—an intense heat that nearly stifled him; he heard a sudden shriek—a groan.