The Ghost Girl

  CHAPTER VI

  At eleven o'clock that night, just as Miss Pinckney was on the point ofretiring to bed the news came in the form of Phyl herself.

  She arrived in a buggy driven by the farmer who owned the land throughwhich the grass road ran.

  She gave a little glad cry when she saw Miss Pinckney and ran into herarms.

  Upstairs and alone with the lady, she told her story. Told her how she hadmet Silas on the road that morning, how, tired of life and scarce knowingwhat she did, she had got into the phaeton, how he had upset it andsmashed it, how she had sheltered in the cabin whilst he went in search ofhelp.

  "Then I went to sleep," said Phyl, "and when I woke up it was afternoon.He was not there, but he must have come back when I was asleep and leftsome food for me, for there was a bundle outside the door with some breadand bacon in it. Then I started off to walk and found a village with somecoloured people. I told them I was lost and wanted to get to Grangersons.They were kind to me, but I had to wait a long time before they could findthat gentleman, the farmer, and he could get a cart to drive me here."

  "Thank God it is all over and you are back," said Miss Pinckney. "But oh,Phyl! what made you do it?"

  "I don't know," said Phyl.

  But Miss Pinckney did.

  "Listen," said she. "You know what I told you about Richard and FrancesRhett--that's all done with. He has broken off the engagement."

  Phyl flushed, then she hid her burning face on Miss Pinckney's shoulder.

  Miss Pinckney held her for awhile. Then she began to talk.

  "We will get right back to-morrow early; no one knows anything and I'lltake care they never do. Well, it's strange--I can understand everythingbut I can't understand that crazy creature. What's become of him? That'swhat I want to know."

  * * * * *

  This is what had become of him.

  Kneeling beside Phyl the sudden sharp pain just above his instep made himturn. In turning he caught a glimpse of his assailant. It had beencreeping towards the door when he entered and had taken refuge beneath thestraw. He had almost knelt on it. Escaping, a movement of his foot hadraised its anger and it had struck, it was now whisking back into thedarkness of the cabin beyond the straw heap.

  He recognised it as the deadliest snake in the South.

  For a moment he recognised nothing else but the fact that he had beenbitten.

  His passion and desire had vanished utterly. Phyl might have been athousand miles away from him for all that he thought of her.

  He rose up and came out into the sunlight, went to the well head, sat downon the frame and removed his shoe and sock. The mark of the bite was therebetween the adductor tendons. A red hot iron and a bottle of whisky mighthave saved him. He had not even a penknife to cut the wound out--Hethought of Phyl, she could do nothing. He thought of the bar of theCharleston Hotel, and the verse of the song about the old hen with awooden leg and the statement that it was just about time for anotherlittle drink, ran through his head.

  Then suddenly the idea came to him that there might possibly be help atthe village where he had obtained the food from the coloured woman. It wasa long way off, but still it was a chance.

  He put the sock in his pocket, put on the shoe and started. He ran for thefirst couple of hundred yards, then he slackened his pace, then he stoppedholding one hand to his side.

  The poison already had hold of him.

  The game was up and he knew it. It was useless to go on, he would not liveto reach the village or reaching it would die there.

  And every one would pity him with that shuddering pity people extend tothose who meet with a horrible form of death.

  Death from snake bite was a low down business, it was no end for aGrangerson; but there in the swamp to the left a man might lie foreverwithout being found out.

  He turned from the road to the left and walked away among the trees.

  The ground here sank beneath the foot, a vague haze hung above the marshand the ponds. Here nothing happened but the change of season, night andday, the chorus of frogs and the crying of the white owl amidst thetrees.