Chapter VIII.—In the Shadow of DeathLarose was very troubled, as, late that afternoon, he sat alone in his room and gave himself up to his thoughts.
He was intending to make his way to the house upon the marsh as soon as darkness fell, and determine once and for all if the man who had been crouching under the hedge that morning were indeed the same one who had come up behind him that night when he had fired upon the pursuing car.
And now in the interval of waiting, he was trying to sum up exactly what his position was, and if he had really made any progress at all, and discovered anything since he had arrived at the Abbey three days ago.
His eyebrows puckered in perplexity. He had so many tangled skeins to unravel, and in whichsoever direction his thoughts travelled, they were soon, so
