As Gabriel looked up, and
saw how brightly the promise of a lovely day was written in the
heavens, he trembled as he thought of the search which he was now
about to make. The sight of the fair, fresh sunrise jarred
horribly with the suspicions of committed murder that were
rankling foully in his heart. But he knew that his errand must be
performed, and he nerved himself to go through with it; for he
dared not return to the cottage until the mystery had been
cleared up at once and forever.
The Merchant's Table was formed by two huge stones resting
horizontally on three others. In the troubled times of more than
half a century ago, regular tourists were unknown among the Druid
monuments of Brittany; and the entrance to the hollow place under
the stones--since often visited by strangers--was at this time
nearly choked up by brambles and weeds. Gabriel's first look at
this tangled nook of briers convinced him that the place had not
been entered perhaps for years, by any living being. Without
allowing himself to hesitate (for he felt that the slightest
delay might be fatal to his resolution), he passed as gently as
possible through the brambles, and knelt down at the low, dusky,
irregular entrance of the hollow place under the stones.
His heart throbbed violently, his breath almost failed him; but
he forced himself to crawl a few feet into the cavity, and then
groped with his hand on the ground about him.
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