Explore "The Mill of Silence" by Bernard Capes on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Momentarily I saw -- a black mote in that flickering violet transparency -- the figure of Duke as he ran before me bobbing up and down like the shadow of the invisible man. Drawn by a sure instinct, he was heading for the mill, and every nerve must I strain to overtake him, now goaded by fear and triumph to maniacal frenzy.
But half the distance was covered when the rain swept down in one blinding sheet, that lashed the gutters into froth a foot high and numbed the soul with its terrific uproar.