“Come out,” said something in his brain. “Don’t play those silly tricks.”
But no sound came from his lips, for he only thought that he called. Then he heard something, a voice that muttered in the shadow.
“Not yet,” it seemed to be saying, “not yet. Neither the day nor the hour.”
Mr. Deeling stared at the thicket, which moved under his eyes as though an unseen wind were blowing. Or was it the passage of some heavy body? The sweat trickled unchecked down his cheeks.
He walked quickly back to the path. He must not run, for that would be the end.
Soon he was again in the wood, but now he had a companion — something that stalked him invisibly, rustling beside him as he went upon his way. Where were the human voices and the pleasant light of day?
Mr. Deeling began to run.
THE HAYMAKING P
