Will ye swear?"
Caius made no answer. He was looking intently. As soon as the tones of
O'Shea's voice were carried away by the bluster of the wind, as far as
the human beings there were concerned there was perfect stillness; the
surf and the wind might have been sweeping the dunes alone.
"And if I will not swear?" asked Caius, in a voice that was loud enough
to reach to the last man in the long single rank.
O'Shea stepped nearer him, and, as if in pretence of wiping his face
with his gloved hand, he sent him a hissing whisper that gave a sudden
change of friendliness and confidence to his voice, "Don't be a fool!
swear it."
"Are these men, or are they corpses?" asked Caius.
The stillness of the forms before him became an almost unendurable
spectacle.
He had no sooner spoken than O'Shea appealed to the men, shouting words
in the queer guttural French. And Caius saw the first man slowly raise
his hand as if in an attitude of oath-taking, and the second man did
likewise. O'Shea turned round and faced him, speaking hastily. The
shadow of the cloud was sending dark shudderings of lighter and darker
shades across the sand hollow, and these seemed almost like a visible
body of the wind that with searching blast drifted loose sand upon them
all. With the sweep of the shadow and the wind, Caius saw the movement
of the lifted hand go down the line.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134