For years he had nursed his hatred of Travilla, whom he blamed almost exclusively for his failure to get possession of Elsie's fortune.
He sprang up and again placed himself in position to fire.

But what had become of the welcome sounds?
Alas for his hoped-for revenge; they had died away entirely.

The horse and his rider must have taken some other road.

More low-breathed, bitter curses: yet perchance it was not the man for whose life he thirsted.

He would wait and hope on.
But the night waned: one after another the moon and stars set and day began to break in the east; the birds waking in their nests overhead grew clamorous with joy, yet their notes seemed to contain a warning tone for him, bidding him begone ere the coming of the light hated by those whose deeds are evil.