Are you going to read the letter ?" Dacre stared at him for a moment or two with eyes of glowering resentment; but in the end he put forth a hand not wholly steady and took the sheet held out to him.

Monck stood beside him in utter immobility, gazing out over the valley with a changeless vigilance that had about it something fateful.
Minutes passed.

Dacre seemed unable to lift his eyes from the page.

But it fluttered in his hold, though the night was still, as if a strong wind were blowing.
Suddenly he moved, as one who violently breaks free from some fettering spell.

He uttered a bitter oath and tore the sheet of paper passionately to fragments.