CHAPTER XVIII.
THE BARRIERS FALL.
There were marks of teeth on his right boot, but no marks at all on his body.

Fright--or fright following on that evening's frenzy--had killed him.
He was buried three days later, and Mr.Raymond read the service.
No rain had fallen, and the blood of the three hounds still stained the gravel dividing the grave from the porch, where the crowd had shot them down.
For a while his death made small difference to the family at the Parsonage.

They had fought his enmity and proved it not formidable for brave hearts.

But they had scarcely realised their success, and wondered why his death did not affect them more.
About this time Taffy began to carry out a scheme which he and his father had often discussed, but hitherto had found no leisure for-- the setting up of wooden crosses on the graves of the drowned sailormen.

They had wished for slate, but good slate was expensive and hard to come by, and Taffy had no skill in stone-cutting.
Since wood it must be, he resolved to put his best work into it.
The names, etc., should be engraved, not painted merely.