THE PEREGRINE FALCON 
They tired of their games as the sun crept 
behind the buttress and cast the tower's broad 
black shadow across the roofs. All day the 
frost had nipped ; now in the shade it fastened 
tighter. North and east the sky was flooded 
with rose colour, and the chill air was full of 
the distant clamour in the streets below ; for it 
was Christmas Eve, and men were all abroad 
preparing to keep the feast of the birth of God. 
One by one the lamps were lighted in the 
houses and streets, and on the masts of the 
ships ; and as the sunset paled Cor Caroli 
started on his everlasting circuit of the north. 
Seumas Sherritt did not climb the tower that 
night, because he was busy about the church, 
preparing it for the festival. If he had done 
so, he might have picked up his captive almost 
without a flutter, for lolar had scarcely strength 
to gain the sheltered nook at the junction of aisle 
and nave above the sacristy door. 
He should have died of that night's frost. The 
full moon rose behind the cross on the chancel 
roof, and, bisected by the transverse arms, it 
seemed to grin. The sky was clear and black 
as the ice. The daws in the tower slept 
soundly, lulled by the cold : men slept down 
in the town. lolar huddled on the slates in 
the dreamless lethargy which is the last, but 
not the least, of Nature's benefactions to those 
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