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Hornung, E. W. (Ernest William), 1866-1921

"The Shadow of the Rope"

"I can soon find it for myself."
Steel stood on the steps, his midnight eyes upon Langholm, the glint of
a smile in those eyes, but not the vestige of one upon his lips.
"Oh, very well," said he. "You know the side-door near the
billiard-room? They have probably put it in the first room on the left;
that is where we keep ours--for we have gone in for them at last.
Good-by, Langholm; remember my advice."
And, that no ceremony should be lost between them, the host turned on
his heel and disappeared through his own front door, leaving Langholm
very angry in the rain.
But anger was the last emotion for such an hour; the judge might as well
feel exasperated with the prisoner at the bar, the common hangman with
the felon on the drop. Langholm only wished that, on even one moment's
reflection, he could rest content in so primitive and so single a state
of mind. He knew well that he could not, and that every subtle sort of
contest lay before him, his own soul the arena. In the meantime let him
find his bicycle and get away from this dear and accursed spot; for dear
it had been to him, all that too memorable summer; but now of a surety
the curse of Cain brooded over its cold, white walls and deep-set
windows like sunken eyes in a dead face.


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