A few minutes more, and the whole
country was covered with a low-lying fog, on whose upper surface the
moon shone, making it appear to Donal's wondering eyes a wide-spread
inundation, from which rose half-submerged houses and stacks and
trees. One who had never seen the thing before, and who did not
know the country, would not have doubted he looked on a veritable
expanse of water. Absorbed in the beauty of the sight he trudged
on.
Suddenly he stopped: were those the sounds of a scuffle he heard on
the road before him? He ran. At the next turn, in the loneliest
part of the way, he saw something dark, like the form of a man,
lying in the middle of the road. He hastened to it. The moon
gleamed on a pool beside it. A death-like face looked heavenward:
it was that of lord Forgue--without breath or motion. There was a
cut in his head: from that the pool had flowed. He examined it as
well as he could with anxious eyes. It had almost stopped bleeding.
What was he to do? What could be done? There was but one thing!
He drew the helpless form to the side of the way, and leaning it up
against the earth-dyke, sat down on the road before it, and so
managed to get it upon his back, and rise with it. If he could but
get him home unseen, much scandal might be forestalled!
On the level road he did very well; but, strong as he was, he did
not find it an easy task to climb with such a burden the steep
approach to the castle.
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