As though pushing the drama of the story to its climax, the stormy wind and rain appeared between the dark cave and the eaves. They fell as I leaped into the river, only to start raging when I crawled up the riverbank like a water ghost. The flickering ghostly lights in the distance dimmed and blurred, providing me cover for my next move — the local residents did not yet know that I was carried to their lair by the river.
The wild wind howled mournfully as it blew through the labyrinthine ancient houses. Exhausted, I wanted no more killing, so I hid in an empty house, blocking the door with a latch and a table, took off my wet, water-drenched clothes, wrung them dry, and put them back on, for fear of being troubled by chills again.
I watched the furious storm outside the window battering the house, the sound of wind and rain and the slanted lines seemed to take me back to that stormy night when the ship wrecked.
