On the
right, at its base, water eternally drips from the ledges of the
granite and here, two feet beneath the surface, he doubtless still
lies. The falling water smooths the slope and the earth descends
daily to increase the volume of granite sand and gravel above him.
The drip must swiftly have washed away any trace of my handiwork
and, even with these directions, it may be hard to find him.
Arrived at the bungalow, Robert's first demand was a bath in the
quarry pool. To this I had accustomed him and we stripped and swam
for ten minutes. You will perceive the value of this operation. His
clothes were ready for me without speck or blemish; and when we
returned from the pool into the shelter of the bungalow it was a
naked man I smote and dropped with one blow of my formidable weapon.
His back was turned and the pole-axe head went through his skull
like butter. He was dead before I cut his throat, put on my shoes
and hastened, naked, to the moraine with a spade.
I opened the grave under the falling water and dug two feet into the
loose stuff, for that was deep enough.
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