Noughts and Crosses eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 168 pages of information about Noughts and Crosses.

Noughts and Crosses eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 168 pages of information about Noughts and Crosses.

With this he turned off the road at right angles, and began to strike rapidly across the moor.  At first I thought he was trying to escape me, but he allowed me to catch him up readily enough, and then I knew the point for which he was making.  I followed doggedly.  Clouds began to gather over the moon’s face, and every now and then I stumbled heavily on the uneven ground; but he moved along nimbly enough, and even cried “Shoo!” in a sprightly voice when a startled plover flew up before his feet.  Presently, after we had gone about five hundred yards on the heath, the ground broke away into a little hollow, where a rough track led down to the Lime Kilns and the thinly wooded stream that washed the valley below.  We followed this track for ten minutes or so, and presently the masonry of the disused kilns peered out, white in the moonlight, from between the trees.

There were three of these kilns standing close together beside the path; but my companion without hesitation pulled up almost beneath the very arch of the first, peered about, examined the ground narrowly, and then motioned to me.

“Dig here.”

“If we both know well enough what is underneath, what is the use of digging?”

“I very much doubt if we do,” said he.  “You had better dig.”

I can feel the chill creeping down my back as I write of it; but at the time, though I well knew the grisly sight which I was to discover, I dug away steadily enough.  The man who had surprised my secret set himself down on a dark bank of ferns at about ten paces’ distance, and began to whistle softly, though I could see his fingers fumbling with his coat-tails as though they itched to be at the flute again.

The moon’s rays shone fitfully upon the white face of the kiln, and lit up my work.  The little stream rushed noisily below.  And so, with this hateful man watching, I laid bare the lime-burnt remains of the comrade whom, almost five months before, I had murdered and buried there.  How I had then cursed my luck because forced to hide his corpse away before I could return and search for the diamond I had failed to find upon his body!  But as I tossed the earth and lime aside, and discovered my handiwork, the moon’s rays were suddenly caught and reflected from within the pit, and I fell forward with a short gasp of delight.

For there, kindled into quick shafts and points of colour—­violet, green, yellow, and fieriest red—­lay the missing diamond among Roger’s bones.  As I clutched the gem a black shadow fell between the moon and me.  I looked up.  My companion was standing over me, with the twinkle still in his eye and the flute in his hand.

“You were a fool not to guess that he had swallowed it.  I hope you are satisfied with the bargain.  As we are not, I trust, likely to meet again in this world, I will here bid you Adieu, though possibly that is scarcely the word to use.  But there is one thing I wish to tell you.  I owe you a debt to-night for having prevented me from committing a crime.  You saw that I had the spade and pickaxe ready in the cottage.  Well, I confess I lusted for that gem.  I was arguing out the case with my flute when you came in.”

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Noughts and Crosses from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.