All the ground before her lay in a wide-spreading hollow, and darkness cloaked it.
Again she crouched down, pressing her hand against her heart, listening.

It was a very still night, and few sounds disturbed its peacefulness.

Somewhere, far off, a cart rumbled along; presently one of the Polterham clocks began to strike, faintly but clearly.

That caused her to look in the direction of the town; she saw the radiance of lights, and thought of what was going on over there--the shouting, rushing, fighting.
A night-insect buzzed against her, and, almost in the same moment, there came from down in the hollow, from beyond the trees, a sound which chilled her blood, stopped the wild beating of her heart.

It seemed to echo with dreadful clearness from end to end of the heavens.
A dull splash of water, that was all; in reality, scarcely to be heard at this distance save by an ear straining in dreadful expectation.
She made one effort to rise, but could not.