and now she stooped and
touched her foot.

"If I were safe at home I should think I could not walk, but I can walk
now--I can--I can--because I will bear the pain."

In such cottages there is always a door opening outside from the little
bricked kitchen, where the copper stands. She would reach that, and,
passing through, would close it behind her. After that SOMETHING would
tell her what to do--something would lead her.

She put her lame foot upon the floor, and rested some of her weight upon
it--not all. A jagged pain shot up from it through her whole side it
seemed, and, for an instant, she swayed and ground her teeth.

"That is because it is the first step," she said. "But if I am to be
killed, I will die in the open--I will die in the open."

The second and third steps brought cold sweat out upon her, but she told
herself that the fourth was not quite so unbearable, and she stiffened
her whole body, and muttered some words while she took a fifth and sixth
which carried her into the tiny back kitchen.

"Father," she said. "Father, think of me now--think of me! Rosy, love
me--love me and pray that I may come home. You--you who have died, stand
very near!"

If her father ever held her safe in his arms again--if she ever awoke
from this nightmare, it would be a thing never to let one's mind hark
back to again--to shut out of memory with iron doors.

The pain had shot up and down, and her forehead was wet by the time she
had reached the small back door. Was it locked or bolted--was it? She
put her hand gently upon the latch and lifted it without making any
sound. Thank God Almighty, it was neither bolted nor locked, the latch
lifted, the door opened, and she slid through it into the shadow of the
grey which was already almost the darkness of night. Thank God for that,
too.

She flattened herself against the outside wall and listened. He was
having difficulty in managing Childe Harold, who snorted and pulled
back, offended and made rebellious by his savagely impatient hand. Good
Childe Harold, good boy! She could see the massed outline of the trees
of the spinney. If she could bear this long enough to get there--even
if she crawled part of the way. Then it darted through her mind that he
would guess that she would be sure to make for its cover, and that he
would go there first to search.

"Father, think for me--you were so quick to think!" her brain cried out
for her, as if she was speaking to one who could p