File:Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904 (1904) (14596114518).jpg

Identifier: harpersnew0109various (find matches)
Title: Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 109 June to November 1904
Year: 1904 (1900s)
Authors: various
Subjects:
Publisher: New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers
Contributing Library: Brigham Young University-Idaho, David O. McKay Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Brigham Young University-Idaho

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atriarch rent by the swordof centuries, primeval and hoary in itssullen solitude. The stars seemed to hangabove its branches like a magic crown. Alain, big-eyed, alert as a weasel, hud-dled down behind a pile of fagots onthe outskirts of the clearing. An oaklog served him as a seat. He turnedthe hood of his cloak over his head,and sat and stared at the tree. A hun-dred fantastic fancies danced and nick-ered in his brain. His ears tingled withthe frosty air; his breath rose above himlike vapor. The forest stood soundless and calmunder the moon. The silence was super-natural in its utter emptiness. Not awind stirred; not a cloud moved athwartthe sky; the very earth seemed dead, afrozen planet, sunless and without life.The lad crouching by the fagots hud-dled his cloak about him, and still staredat the tree. The night air was freezinghis courage; the sinister significance ofthe place began to bulk more vividly inhis imagination. His eyes darted swift,restless glances into the surrounding
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178 HARPERS MONTHLY MAGAZINE. gloom. Eear seemed to create soundsfrom the void of silence. He rememberedwith a twinge of hunger the red warmthof the guard-room fire, the fumes of roastmeat and ale, even drunken Croquart,sleeping behind the half-shut door. BlackFulk of the Forest with his lurid hounds,viewed erstwhile with a mischievous glee,began to bulk with a more terrific realismthat was not comforting. Alain staredat the great tree with the fascinationof a gradual fear. He could hear hisheart cantering, his breath whistling be-tween his teeth. Each moment he ex-pected to behold the black trunk openwith a glare of flame and a sound as ofthunder, to see the eyes of the hell-hounds burning like live coals overthe snow. Magic or no magic, some sound cameto him from the forest, setting his earstingling, his mouth agape. It was aqueer metallic sound, thin and eerie inthe vast void of the night. He crouchedlow behind the fagots like a frightenedrabbit, listening, and staring into thegloo

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