And in the darkness James Moore was lying with his face pressed downward that he might not see.
Once he raised himself on his arms; his eyes were shut and face uplifted, like a blind man praying. He passed a weary hand across his brow; his head dropped again; and he moaned and moaned like a man in everlasting pain.
Then the darkness lifted a moment, and he stole a furtive glance, like a murderer's at the gallows-tree, at the scene in front.
It was no dream; clear and cruel in the moonlight the humpbacked boulder; the dead sheep; and that gray figure, beautiful, motionless, damned for all eternity.
The Master turned his face and looked at Andrew, a dumb, pitiful entreaty in his eyes; but in the boy's white, horror-stricken countenance was no comfort. Then his head lolled down again, and the strong man was whimpering.
"He! he! he! 'Scuse ma laffin', Mr. Moore--he! he! he!"
A little man, all wet and shrunk, sat hunching on a mound above them, rocking his shrivelled form to and fro in the agony of his merriment.
"Ye raskil--he! he! Ye rogue--he! he!' and he shook his fist waggishly at the unconscious gray dog. "I owe ye anither grudge for this--ye've anteecipated me "--and he leant. back and shook this way and that in convulsive mirth.
