For one long moment he sat leaning forward, staring far beyond the
Indian screen upon which his eyes were fixed, and then slowly, almost
imperceptibly, his head moved.

The drawn white face had the hunted look of some animal at bay, the
agonised eyes moved as the head moved; slowly, slowly, inch by inch,
the breath coming stertorously as the mouth tried vainly to frame some
word.

The moon had gathered the last fold of her silvery raiment about her
and was creeping away through the open window just as Sir Jonathan
looked straight up into the eye gleaming malevolently through the gloom.

And as he looked the head moved gently so that the eye leered cunningly
into the distorted face beneath; it, hovered for a fraction of time on
the edge of the shelf and fell, just as the old man, with a blinding
flash of understanding sweeping his face, sprang to his feet, stood
upright, swayed forward, and fell back sideways, dead, across his
chair, staring across the room into eternity with eyes full of
knowledge and infinite horror.




CHAPTER IX

"How have I hated instruction, and my heart
despised reproof!"--_The Bible_.