![]() Matthew heard something rustle off in the grass to his right it sounded large and quite sinister, therefore he found a little extra speed himself. The midnight traveller had a definite purpose, one that gave speed to his step. ![]() Who would expect anyone in their right mind to venture out into this morass in the dead of night? If the watchman had been awake - and this Matthew seriously doubted - he'd been looking out to sea. Matthew estimated the distance at least a quarter mile from the watchman's tower, which had been easily circumvented by cutting through the pinewoods. Matthew was up to the task of following through the waist-high grasses and across the muck that pulled at his shoes, but it was a tough and laborious journey. His pace was swift and sure-footed, even without benefit of a lantern. The man had come this way before, that was a certainty. Ahead of him and almost at the limit of his perception was the midnight traveller - a dark, moving blotch within further darkness - who would have been totally lost to him had it not been for the faint orange moonlight, and even that meager illumination was jealously guarded by the streams of moving clouds. Breakers were hitting islands or exposed sandbars some distance away from the swamp that he was now negotiating with great difficulty. ![]() ![]() Matthew could hear the tempestuous sound of the sea. ![]()
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