ning, a week later.

He had worked all the previous day in a farm-yard--carting manure, and
the like; and though he was perfectly well again, some of the spring had
ebbed from his muscles during his week's rest. This day, too, the first
of November, had been exhausting. They had walked since daybreak, after
a wretched night in a barn, plodding almost in silence, mile after mile,
against a wet south-west wind, over a discouraging kind of high-road
that dipped and rose and dipped again, and never seemed to arrive
anywhere.

It is true that Frank was no longer intensely depressed; quite another
process had been at work upon him for the last two or three months, as
will be seen presently; but his limbs seemed leaden, and the actual
stiffness in his shoulders and loins made walking a little difficult.

They were all tired together. They did not say much to one another.
They had, in fact, said all that there was to be said months ago; and
they were reduced--as men always are reduced when a certain pitch is
reached--to speak simply of the most elementary bodily things--food,
tobacco and sleep. The Major droned on now and then--recalling luxuries
of past days--actual roofs over the head, actual hot meat to put in the
mouth, actual cigars--and Frank answered him. Gertie said nothing.

* * * * *

She made up for it, soon after dark had fallen, by quite suddenly
collapsing into a hedge, and announcing that she would die if she didn't
rest. The Major made the usual remarks, and she made no answer.

Frank interposed suddenly.

"Shut up," he said. "We can't stop here. I'll go on a bit and see what
can be done."

And, as he went off into the darkness, leaving his bundle, he heard the
scolding voice begin again, but it was on a lower key and he knew it
would presently subside into a grumble, soothed by tobacco.

* * * * *

He had no idea as to the character of the road that lay before him. They
had passed through a few villages that afternoon, whose names meant
nothing to him, and he scarcely knew why, even, they were going along
this particular road. They were moving southwards towards London--so
much had been agreed--and they proposed to arrive there in another month
or so. But the country was unfamiliar to him, and the people seemed
grudging and uncouth. They had twice been refused the use of an outhouse
for the night, that afternoon.

It seemed an extraordin