The Shadow Read Online Free PDF Page A

in the water, a softness of warmth. The excitement began to mount. I stood up, and everywhere there was nobody; far as the eye could wander, not a soul. Off everything came. First one foot, then another—I plunged and gasped and it’s a wonder you didn’t hear me.
    Such shuddering ecstasy! Then in a moment—the water was warm. It was all about me and soft and warm. You wouldn’t believe it. Though remember it had taken all summer to make it warm. All summer. (That’s where you pause and the enchantment comes.)
    Not having wherewith to dry myself, I did a little dance on the old rock, and then I sat on it.
    You never sat on an old rock in a hill burn and let sun and wind dry you?
    There was a time, I think, when I lost consciousness, when either I fell asleep or thinned away on sun and wind. Perhaps it was only a second or two, but I have the feeling it was longer, perhaps five minutes.
    I came home hardly walking on my own feet. I must have been terribly tired and weak. But I did not feel it that way. And a glory came with me. It was in my skin. I smiled, it was so friendly. My skin and the glory and all my eyes could see and the eyes themselves and you. And something I learned will be for ever with me. Come weal or woe, it will be there, heightening or deepening, sunlight or shadow. Oh, Ran! I am shy suddenly of saying outright what I want to say to you. I seem only to have been saying it through everything in the world.
2
    A terrible thing has happened. The old man who lived in the cottage away round the shoulder of the hill has been murdered. He lived all alone and some say he couldn’t have had much money because he was getting the Old Age Pension, but Will here—the first horseman—who knew him said he wouldn’t be surprised if he had a good thing in his kist. His kist—a brown-painted wooden chest—was smashed open with the axe which still had the blood on it. I stood behind listening to Aunt Phemie and Will going over all the details. I couldn’t move. I saw the kist and the white splinters. I tried not to see much else but it was no use, because Will knew where the hacks and gashes were. He put his hand up to his neck and then to his temples and drew the gashes with a thick red-blue finger. He said it was clear that old Farquhar had put up a bit of a fight. There was a notion, he said, that the fellow (the murderer) must first of all have gone in and asked Farquhar for money. Something like a smile came to Will’s face. I cannot describe it to you. He is well over sixty and looks older and has been a farm worker all his life. The smile that whin-roots make under the ground. In an instant I saw that Farquhar was like that too, only older still, and for anyone to demand money—money!—it was a joke so profound that the smile could no more come up than the roots—or the money. Farquhar would fairly have shown him the door then! said Will. But I can’t remember Will’s words any more for they made me see the fellow going out, the woodblock and the axe by the barn door, the loneliness of the cottage, the quietness, the hand lifting the axe, then back to the door. Farquhar barred the door inside. The door is driven in by the axe. I began to see the theory, for Will was very explicit at this point; he plays draughts with a lad in the bothy; he was in no hurry, enjoying his moves. For why would Farquhar have barred the door? Even if he had been in bed he would have got up and opened it to anyone. He would have opened to anyone at any hour, he always did, said Will. And Farquhar must now have been expecting him, for the long iron tongs … Suddenly, before I could properly turn round, I was sick. They had forgotten I was there. Aunt Phemie helped me into the house for my legs gave under me. I got terribly cold. When was in bed and she was leaving the room, I wanted to call her back. I had to shut my teeth with all my strength. I longed for everything