rom where he had cast himself down by Yves. The sun had long passed from the sky and the star-smitten sea came in smoothly,

lled with fire and passionate life, and those wastes of the ever-fretting sea, had been revealed to him in one stupendous moment, that he ha

or a moment, Gaspard, standing before the body of the man he had slain, saw death as the prehistoric man saw it before language had robbed thought of its freshne

n a28 wild outburst of grief just as a child spends

?-whose fa

counting up the score of these "injuries," right back to the tobacco-smelling bar of the Riga and to Anisette as he had last seen her, with her little grimy hand resting on the great hairy paw of

th the sleeve of his coat, he felt as though all the occurrences of the last few hours had happened years ago, so remote did they seem for the moment. The sight of the body lying there so still in the starlight brought him to a pause. Grief rushed back on him, driv

he seized the body of his dead companion by the

*

ell of tragedy but the knife lying there just as it had fallen after its murderous work. He picked it up, dug it in the sand, and replaced it in its

; unutterable weariness had suddenly fallen upon him, robbing him of mind and almos

th the belt and the money beside him fell into