of surprise; soon followed by superstitious
awe; this succeeded by apprehension of another kind. But he had no time
to dwell upon it before being set upon by the dog, which drove the more
distant danger out of his head.

Delivered also from this, his present fear is about those glances
regarding him. In the obscurity he cannot read them, but for all that
can tell they are sternly inquisitorial. _En revanche_, neither can
they read his; and, from this drawing confidence, he recovers his
habitual coolness--knowing how much he now needs it.

The behaviour of the hound must not pass unspoken of. With a forced
laugh, and in a tone of assumed nonchalance, he says:

"I can't tell how many scores of times that dog of Clancy's has made at
me in the same way. It's never forgiven me since the day I chastised
it, when it came after one of our sluts. I'd have killed the cur long
ago, but spared it through friendship for its master."

An explanation plausible, and cunningly conceived; though not
satisfactory to some. Only the unsuspicious are beguiled by it.
However, it holds good for the time; and, so regarded, the searchers
resume their quest.

It is no use for them to remain longer by the moss-heap. There they but
see blood; they are looking for a body. To find this they must go
farther.

One taking up the hat, another the abandoned gun, they scatter off,
proceeding in diverse directions.

For several hours they go tramping among the trees, peering under the
broad fan-like fronds of the saw-palmettoes, groping around the
buttressed trunks of the cypresses, sending glances into the shadowed
spaces between--in short, searching everywhere.

For more than a mile around they quarter the forest, giving it thorough
examination. The swamp also, far as the treacherous ooze will allow
them to penetrate within its _gloomy_ portals--fit abode of death--place
appropriate for the concealment of darkest crime.

Notwithstanding their zeal, prompted by sympathising hearts, as by a
sense of outraged justice, the day's search proves fruitless--bootless.
No body can be found, dead or living; no trace of the missing man.
Nothing beyond what they have already obtained--his hat and gun.

Dispirited, tired out, hungry, hankering after dinners delayed, as eve
approaches they again congregate around the gory spot; and, with a
mutual understanding to resume search on the morrow, separate, and set
off--each to his own home.

CHAPT