“right here we left it,” she said. And he brought, “Oh, but right here too!” “It’s upstairs,” she murmured. “And inside thegarden,” he whispered. “Quietly,” they said, “or we shall wake them.”
however it wasn’t that you woke us. Oh, no. “They’re searching out it; they’re drawing the curtain,” one may say, and so examine on a page or two. “Now they’ve located it,” one would be sure, stopping the pencil at the margin. and then, uninterested in analyzing, one would possibly rise and spot for oneself, the house all empty, the doorways status open, best the wood pigeons bubbling with content and the hum of the threshing gadget sounding from the farm. “What did I are available here for? What did I want to locate?” My hands had been empty. “perhaps it’s upstairs then?” The apples have been in the loft. And so down again, the lawn nevertheless as ever, simplest the ebook had slipped into the grass.
but they'd discovered it inside the drawing room. not that one ought to ever see them. The window panes contemplatedapples, pondered roses; all the leaves had been green within the glass. if they moved within the drawing room, the apple most effective grew to become its yellow side. but, the moment after, if the door changed into opened, unfoldapproximately the floor, hung upon the walls, pendant from the ceiling—what? My hands had been empty. The shadow of a thrush crossed the carpet; from the private wells of silence the wood pigeon drew its bubble of sound. “secure, secure, secure,” the heartbeat of the house beat softly. “The treasure buried; the room…” the heartbeat stopped short. Oh, become that the buried treasure?
A second later the light had faded. Out inside the garden then? however the bushes spun darkness for a wandering beam of solar. So high-quality, so rare, coolly sunk under the surface the beam I sought always burnt behind the glass. loss of life turned into the glass; loss of life changed into between us; coming to the female first, masses of years in the past, leaving the house, sealing all the home windows; the rooms had been darkened. He left it, left her, went North, went East, noticed the stars became inside the Southern sky; sought the house, found it dropped underneath the Downs. “safe, safe, safe,” the pulse of the residence beat gladly. “The Treasure yours.”
The wind roars up the avenue. trees stoop and bend this manner and that. Moonbeams splash and spill wildly within therain. but the beam of the lamp falls instantly from the window. The candle burns stiff and nevertheless. Wandering via the residence, commencing the home windows, whispering not to wake us, the ghostly couple searching for their pleasure.
“here we slept,” she says. And he adds, “Kisses with out quantity.” “Waking within the morning—” “Silver between the timber—” “Upstairs—” “in the lawn—” “whilst summer time came—” “In wintry weather snowtime—” The doorwaysmove shutting some distance inside the distance, gently knocking like the pulse of a coronary heart.
nearer they come; quit at the entrance. The wind falls, the rain slides silver down the glass. Our eyes darken; we pay attention no steps beside us; we see no lady unfold her ghostly cloak. His palms shield the lantern. “appearance,” he breathes. “sleeping. Love upon their lips.”
Stooping, conserving their silver lamp above us, lengthy they look and deeply. lengthy they pause. The wind drives straightly; the flame stoops barely. Wild beams of moonlight pass both ground and wall, and, meeting, stain the faces bent; the faces considering; the faces that seek the sleepers and are seeking for their hidden joy.
“secure, secure, safe,” the heart of the residence beats proudly. “long years—” he sighs. “again you determined me.” “here,” she murmurs, “sleeping; in the lawn reading; laughing, rolling apples in the loft. right here we left our treasure—” Stooping, their mild lifts the lids upon my eyes. “secure! secure! safe!” the heartbeat of the house beats wildly. Waking, I cry “Oh, is this your buried treasure? The mild within the coronary heart.”
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