interrupted.

Why in the world need he draw attention to it? I thought angrily.

"There's enough for to-morrow," I said, stirring vigorously, "and we can
get lots more at Komorn or Gran. In twenty-four hours we shall be miles
from here."

"I hope so--to God," he muttered, putting the things back into the sack,
"unless we're claimed first as victims for the sacrifice," he added
with a foolish laugh. He dragged the sack into the tent, for safety's
sake, I suppose, and I heard him mumbling on to himself, but so
indistinctly that it seemed quite natural for me to ignore his words.

Our meal was beyond question a gloomy one, and we ate it almost in
silence, avoiding one another's eyes, and keeping the fire bright. Then
we washed up and prepared for the night, and, once smoking, our minds
unoccupied with any definite duties, the apprehension I had felt all day
long became more and more acute. It was not then active fear, I think,
but the very vagueness of its origin distressed me far more than if I
had been able to ticket and face it squarely. The curious sound I have
likened to the note of a gong became now almost incessant, and filled
the stillness of the night with a faint, continuous ringing rather than
a series of distinct notes. At one time it was behind and at another
time in front of us. Sometimes I fancied it came from the bushes on our
left, and then again from the clumps on our right. More often it hovered
directly overhead like the whirring of wings. It was really everywhere
at once, behind, in front, at our sides and over our heads, completely
surrounding us. The sound really defies description. But nothing within
my knowledge is like that ceaseless muffled humming rising off the