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The House on the Borderland by William Hope Hodgson
page 9 of 176 (05%)
muttered Tonnison, as he gazed interestedly. Then he was silent, his
eyes fixed; and I looked also; for up from somewhere about the center of
the wooded lowland there rose high into the quiet air a great column of
hazelike spray, upon which the sun shone, causing innumerable rainbows.

"How beautiful!" I exclaimed.

"Yes," answered Tonnison, thoughtfully. "There must be a waterfall, or
something, over there. Perhaps it's our river come to light again. Let's
go and see."

Down the sloping bank we made our way, and entered among the trees and
shrubberies. The bushes were matted, and the trees overhung us, so that
the place was disagreeably gloomy; though not dark enough to hide from
me the fact that many of the trees were fruit trees, and that, here and
there, one could trace indistinctly, signs of a long departed
cultivation. Thus it came to me that we were making our way through the
riot of a great and ancient garden. I said as much to Tonnison, and he
agreed that there certainly seemed reasonable grounds for my belief.

What a wild place it was, so dismal and somber! Somehow, as we went
forward, a sense of the silent loneliness and desertion of the old
garden grew upon me, and I felt shivery. One could imagine things
lurking among the tangled bushes; while, in the very air of the place,
there seemed something uncanny. I think Tonnison was conscious of this
also, though he said nothing.

Suddenly, we came to a halt. Through the trees there had grown upon our
ears a distant sound. Tonnison bent forward, listening. I could hear it
more plainly now; it was continuous and harsh--a sort of droning roar,
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