Frost at Morning (9781509859559) by Crompton Richmal
Author:Crompton, Richmal
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Macmillan Pub Ltd
Published: 2017-04-10T10:45:19+00:00
Chapter Thirteen
He walked along the Penbury Road, past the two next villages, then struck into the woods, meaning to take a short cut to the main London road, where, with luck, a lorry driver would give him a lift. But already something of his courage was ebbing from him. The wood seemed to hold menace in its shadowy depth, and the silence, as he penetrated farther into it, took on a personality of its own, becoming something evil and hostile, lurking there, watching him, biding its time . . . Even the pleasant grassy paths that wound among the trees conspired against him, and after walking for a quarter of an hour he found himself back at the point from which he had started. Panic leapt at him, but he mastered it and, leaving the paths, set off again, pushing his way through the bracken in a direct line, as he thought, to the main road, in order to make up for the time he had lost. The sky darkened, and a dull roll of thunder sounded in the distance. Raindrops rustled in the trees over his head.
Surrendering to his fear, he began to run, crashing blindly through the undergrowth as if pursued. The brambles, tearing at him as he went by, seemed like living creatures, and, when he fell headlong, tripped up by the projecting root of a tree, he lay there for some moments, his face hidden in his hands, too terrified to move. Then, scrambling to his feet, he brushed the dust from his clothes and went on . . . more and more slowly as the pain in his ankle increased, till at last he felt that he could go no farther. Sitting down, he took off his shoe and sock and examined his foot. It was swollen and inflamed, so swollen that he could not put on his shoe again. He limped along, holding his shoe in his hand, but at each step the pain increased.
The rain had become a steady downpour, and the rolls of thunder grew nearer as if they were closing in on him. Suddenly he heard the hooting of cars and realized that he was approaching the main road. He made his way to it with difficulty, dragging himself through the low railings that bordered the wood. Then he began to limp along the grass verge till at last he sank down on to the ground, holding his foot in his hand, bending over it, rocking to and fro. Red-hot stabs of pain were shooting up his leg. The sky grew black above him. There was a vivid flash of lightning and a sharp reverberating clap of thunder. The rain was coming down now like a solid sheet of water. He crawled to the hedge and sat in its shelter, surrendering himself to an apathy of despair. He didnât even wonder what to do next because there wasnât anything he could do next. He could only sit there, rain-drenched, pain-racked.
Suddenly a car drew up at the roadside.
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