For Venters a shade overspread the lawn, the flowers, the old vine-clad stone house.

In the music of the singing birds, in the murmur of the running water, he heard an ominous sound.
Quiet beauty--sweet music--innocent laughter! By what monstrous abortion of fate did these abide in the shadow of Dyer?
Venters rode on and stopped before Tull's cottage.

Women stared at him with white faces and then flew from the porch.

Tull himself appeared at the door, bent low, craning his neck.

His dark face flashed out of sight; the door banged; a heavy bar dropped with a hollow sound.
Then Venters shook Black Star's bridle, and, sharply trotting, led the other horses to the center of the village.