Warning Hill
“He had a sort of high-strung steadiness already, forged from lean, hard years. It was just as well, for he needed it that night.
He never understood why he knew that something was not right; it came in that strange, sharpening of the sense such as all of us have known. It came to Tommy as a voice might come, when he was sailing back toward the lights of Welcome River. All at once he stared about him as if he was just awake. There was nothing, no sound save the lapping of the water on the bow of... that yellow skiff. There was only that lightness of the water such as lingers even on the darkest night. Yet it seemed to Tommy that some one had called him.
“Tom!” Just as clearly as though some one had spoken he had heard that soundless voice. “Tom!”
And then the night was so dark that he could seem to touch the black. He seemed to be a small boy again, afraid to cross the hall because there was something in the dark. Some one was on the shore of Welcome River, in the Street’s backyard.MoreLess
He never understood why he knew that something was not right; it came in that strange, sharpening of the sense such as all of us have known. It came to Tommy as a voice might come, when he was sailing back toward the lights of Welcome River. All at once he stared about him as if he was just awake. There was nothing, no sound save the lapping of the water on the bow of... that yellow skiff. There was only that lightness of the water such as lingers even on the darkest night. Yet it seemed to Tommy that some one had called him.
“Tom!” Just as clearly as though some one had spoken he had heard that soundless voice. “Tom!”
And then the night was so dark that he could seem to touch the black. He seemed to be a small boy again, afraid to cross the hall because there was something in the dark. Some one was on the shore of Welcome River, in the Street’s backyard.MoreLess
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