At last she tore it aside as if it had been a veil.
She went down, down into that deep place. She stumbled through a
valley of awful desolation till she came to that which she
sought;--a fallen horse, a rider with glassy eyes upturned.
But the hand of Death had wiped out every distinguishing mark. Was
it Guy? Was it Burke? She knew not. She turned from the sight
with dread unspeakable. She went from the accursed spot with the
anguish of utter bewilderment in her soul. She was bereft of all.
She walked alone in a land of strangers.
CHAPTER XI
THE CROSS-ROADS
When Sylvia started awake from that terrible dream it was to hear
the tread of horses' feet outside the house and the sound of men's
voices talking to each other. As she listened, these drew nearer,
and soon she heard footsteps on the _stoep_ outside. It was
drawing towards sunset, and she realized that she had slept for a
long time.
She felt refreshed in spite of her dream and very thankful to
regain possession of her waking senses. Her knee too was decidedly
better. She found with relief that with care she could use it.
The smell of tobacco wafted in, and she realized that the two men
were sitting smoking together on the _stoep_. One of them, she
felt sure, was Burke Ranger, though it very soon dawned upon her
that they were conversing in Dutch.
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