Moran of the Lady Letty by Frank Norris
page 77 of 184 (41%)
page 77 of 184 (41%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
"I've been asleep, I haven't noticed anything. Is it beginning again?" "The schooner lifted again, just now, very gently. I happened to be awake or I wouldn't have noticed it." They were talking in low voices, as is the custom of people speaking in the dark. "There, what's that?" exclaimed Wilbur under his breath. A gentle vibration, barely perceptible, thrilled through the schooner. Under his hand, that was clasped upon the rail, Wilbur could feel a faint trembling in her frame. It stopped, began again, and died slowly away. "Well, what the devil IS it?" he muttered impatiently, trying to master the returning creep of dread. Moran shook her head, biting her lip. "It's beyond me," she said, frowning. "Can you see anything?" The sky, sea, and land were unbroken reaches of solitude. There was no breath of wind. "Listen," said Moran. Far off to landward came the faint, sleepy clucking of a quail, and the stridulating of unnumbered crickets; a long ripple licked the slope of the beach and slid back into the ocean. Wilbur shook his head. "Don't hear anything," he whispered. "Sh--there--she's trembling again." |
|