tracted his
attention. He paused close to it, and made out the words, "West India
goods and groceries;" and at once his fancy reveled in the savory
eatables stored beyond his reach. What cheese and butter, what hams,
biscuits, and apples; what salted codfish and strings of sausages, were
there! Had the store been open, he would have been tempted to rush in,
knock the salesman senseless, and make off with whatever he could carry.
Strange thoughts these for a man bound on an errand of life and death!
But hunger is no respecter of occasions, however inopportune, or of
emotions, however incongruous. Bressant passed on. He was now
twenty-five miles on his way, and as he came beneath the meeting-house
clock, it struck twelve: the new year had come! To Bressant it brought
only the knowledge that he was seven miles ahead of his time; and this
served in some measure to counteract the depression caused by his
hunger. But on--on! There were still fifty miles to go!

The village vanished, like the old year, behind him. He was now crossing
a lofty plateau, over which swept the wind, strong and chilly. He began
to feel the cold now, and his wet clothes, once in a while, made him
shiver. His physical exhilaration had left him, and his long trot, save
where a downward slope favored him, had gradually sobered into a quick
walk. His shoes, soaked with snow-water, began to chafe his feet. But he
knew better than to stop for rest: the only safety lay in keeping
steadily on; and on he kept, his mouth set grimly, and his head a little
bent forward.

From the top of the plateau was a gradual descent of some five miles;
and here Bressant again fell into a run, reaching the bottom, without
extraordinary exertion, in a trifle less than three-quarters of an hour.
He felt the need of his watch very keenly now; it would have been a
great assistance and encouragement to know just how much he was doing.
He could no longer afford to waste any strength, even in making
calculations; he was fully occupied in putting one foot before another.

How dark, and cold, and blankly disheartening it was! He had now
completed fifty miles, though he knew it not; but it seemed to him as if
he had been full a hundred. His feet, rubbed raw, and stiffened by the
cold, were beginning to retard his pace alarmingly. His face and lips
were pale; a sensation of emptiness and chilled vitality pervaded his
body. It had come down to grim hard work; every step was a conscious