To reach this point became now his next aim.
The wood being dense, Dacres found no more difficulty in passing
through this than in traversing what lay behind him. The caution which
he exercised here was as great as ever, and his progress was as slow,
but as sure. At length he found himself upon the desired point, and,
crawling cautiously forward to the shore, he looked down upon the very
old house which he had desired to reach.
The house stood close by the lake, upon a sloping bank which lay
below. It did not seem to be more than fifty yards away. The doors and
windows were gone. Five or six ill-looking fellows were near the
doorway, some sprawling on the ground, others lolling and lounging
about. One glance at the men was sufficient to assure him that they
were the brigands, and also to show him that they kept no guard or
scout or outpost of any kind, at least in this direction.
Here, then, Dacres lay and watched. He could not wish for a better
situation. With his knife in his hand, ready to defend himself in case
of need, and his whole form concealed perfectly by the thick
underbrush into the midst of which he had crawled, he peered forth
through the overhanging leaves, and watched in breathless interest.
From the point where he now was he could see the shore beyond the
house, where the smoke was rising. He could now see that there were no
less than four different columns of smoke ascending from as many
fires. He saw as many as twenty or thirty figures moving among the
trees, made conspicuous by the bright colors of their costumes.
Pages:
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281