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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Green Fancy"

A moment later
he was silently scaling the wall of the house, feeling his way
carefully, testing every precarious foothold, dragging himself
painfully upwards by means of the most uncanny, animal-like strength
and stealth.
Barnes could not recall drawing a single breath from the instant the
man left his side until the faintly luminous square above his head was
obliterated by the black of his body as it wriggled over the ledge.
He was never to forget the almost interminable age that he spent,
flattened against the vines, waiting for a signal from aloft. He
recalled, with dire uneasiness, Miss Cameron's statement that a guard
was stationed beneath her window throughout the night. Evidently she
was mistaken. Sprouse would not have overlooked a peril like that, and
yet as he crouched there, scarcely breathing, he wondered how long it
would be before the missing guard returned to his post and he would be
compelled to fight for his life. The fine, cold rain fell gently about
him; moist tendrils and leaves caressed his face; owls hooted with
ghastly vehemence, as if determined to awaken all the sleepers for
miles around; and frogs chattered loudly in gleeful anticipation of
the frenzied dash he would have to make through the black maze.


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