Read Online Norton, Andre - Novel 23 by The White Jade Fox (v1.0) - Free Book Online Page A

Contemplation.
She slipped off the wide expanse of the bed, tiptoed past Millie and stood,
shivering a little in only her nightgown, fingering the piece.
                   Brown jade—a brush rest. She had always
thought jade was green. And writing with brushes instead of a pen—yes, others
had spoken of that. How odd it would seem. But this— this was truly a treasure.
She must ask Damaris—
                   Not wanting to light the lamp, Saranna carried
the piece to the window to study it more closely, but when she got there, she
stood instead looking down at the hedge. It was the one in her dream! She
almost found herself hunting the eyes which had shone so brightly along the
roots of those bushes. Though those were not there.
                   But there was a flicker of movement. Saranna
leaned so close to the pane that her forehead touched the chill of the glass,
striving to see better . Movement
indeed. A small cloaked figure edging along the thick
brush. Some servant's child—but why so early? And Millie had said that they all feared a "haunt" having connection
with the closed-off space of the garden. Surely no black child would dare to go
so close.
                   Then—Damaris! But why— And—
                   Saranna blinked.
                   The figure was gone! But—surely she had seen
it! She was no longer dreaming. Damaris—if it were Damaris— where had she gone? For the girl had vanished as
quickly as if she had been snuffed out like a candle flame.
                   Saranna turned back into the room and looked
about her for clothing. In her haste, buttons refused to slide easily into
their proper holes, tapes became exasperatingly tangled. But at length, she was
properly covered, though she did not stop to do more than bundle her hair
loosely into a net.
                   Snatching up her shawl, she ran out of the
room. The hall was dark, but up the stairwell came not only light but faint
sounds as if, early as it was, some members of the household were already awake
and about their duties. Saranna had no desire to be seen or questioned. Until
she knew more about Damans' activities she had no idea of destroying any
possible friendly relationship by such betrayal of the child's actions. Somehow,
without realizing it, she had crossed a line of neutrality in spite of her
wishes and found herself allied with Damans. At least until she learned that
the little girl might have been drawn into some folly.
                   The sounds came from what Saranna decided must
be the kitchen, but that she avoided, reaching the door through which she had
been ushered the night before. The latch gave easily, and then she was out in
the open, though away from the hedge.
                   She must round the comer of the house to see
that. Dew soaked the hem of her skirt, wet the
stockings above her low-heeled slippers. Saranna gathered up her skirt and ran,
seeking the place where she had seen Damans disappear.
                   Only when she reached the hedge, she
discovered it was another matter to locate the exact spot. Seen from ground
level the growth had a different appearance than it did from the second story
window. She could not even be quite sure at this moment, looking back at the
house itself, just which window was hers.
                   Thus she had to go slowly, studying the hedge
and the ground. There was light enough now to show some tracks— small smudges
in the dew-dampened soil and grass. Heartened by that sight, she trailed along,
watching as carefully as might a woods hunter.
                   The tracks ended abruptly, and Saranna could
discover no other indication that the one she tracked had gone beyond this
spot. But neither, she was almost certain, had the child returned to the house.
Then—where had Damaris gone?
                   There was only