Explore "The Perils of Peregrine" by Christopher Ward on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
So I went my way, sorrowing for my lost love. It was growing dusk when I reached a ruined and desolate barn. A solitary place and dismal, remote from the world, a very sinister place forsooth, such indeed as might be the haunt of grisly specters and angry moo-cows. Breath in check, with eyes of horror stared I at that dreadful barn, whence emanated the sound of hollow knocks. Instantly I was transformed into a cool, dispassionate, relentless creature, intent upon one desperate purpose, though as yet I wot not what that purpose was.
"Be damned to ye, Shadrach! " panted a hoarse voice. "Eave, man! 'Eave! Her's a sittin' on th' trap door."