Quicksands

This is a detective novel book. Upon the short, thick grass of a small, secluded opening in a magnificent forest of firs and beeches a young man lay, his hands clasped under his head, buried in waking dreams. He had chosen himself a charming retreat, where he was safe from all intrusion from wayfarers passing through the forest by any of the roads or paths that intersected it at a sufficient distance from this spot. The soft, grassy sod was a delightful couch, and the interlacing boughs of a huge beech-tree formed above the head of the dreamer a canopy that entirely protected him from the burning rays of the mid-day sun. Profound quiet reigned in the forest, intensified, rather than disturbed, by the humming of insects; the very birds which had twittered and sung in the early morning seemed silenced by the heat; all creatures sought repose and refreshment at high noon on this glowing July day.