d."

"Courage," whispered Jason, "the lake is yonder. I can see it
plainly. We'll have water soon."

"It's not that," said Sunlocks, "but something else that troubles
me."

"What else?" said Jason.

"That I'm blind, and sick, and have a broken hand, a broken heart,
and a broken brain, and am not worth saving."

"Lean heavier on my shoulder, and wind your arm about my neck,"
whispered Jason.

Sunlocks struggled on a little longer, and then the power of life
fell low in him, and he could walk no farther. "Let me go," he said,
"I will lie down here a while."

And when Jason had dropped him gently to the ground, thinking he
meant to rest a little and then continue his journey, Sunlocks said,
very gently:

"Now, save yourself. I am only a burden to you. Escape, or you will
be captured and taken back."

"What?" cried Jason, "and leave you here to die?"

"That may be my fate in any case," said Sunlocks faintly, "so go,
brother--go--farewell--and God bless you!"

"Courage," whispered Jason again. "I know a farm not far away, and
the good man that keeps it. He will give us milk and bread; and we'll
sleep under his roof to-night, and start afresh in the morning."

But the passionate voice fell on a deaf ear, for Sunlocks was
unconscious before half the words were spoken. Then Jason lifted him
to his shoulder once more, and set out for the third time over the
rocky waste.

It would be a weary task to tell of the adventures that afterwards
befell him. In the fading sunlight of that day he crossed trackless
places, void of any sound or sight of life; silent, save for the
hoarse croak of the raven; without sign of human foregoer, except
some pyramidal heaps of stones, that once served as mournful
sentinels to point the human scapegoat to the cities of refuge.

He came up to the lake and saw that it was poisonous, for the
plovers that flew over it fell dead from its fumes; and when he
reached the farm he found it a ruin, the good farmer gone, and his
hearth cold. He toiled through mud and boggy places, and crossed
narrow bridle paths along perpendicular sides of precipices. The
night came on as he walked, the short night of that northern summer,
where the sun never sets in blessed darkness that weary eyes may
close in sleep, but a blood-red glow burns an hour in the northern
sky at midnight, and then the bright light rises again over the
unrested world. He was faint for bread, and athirst for water, but
still he s