then rise to
his feet.

He was not long in finding that the latter was an impossibility, for at
the slightest movement the pain was intense, and he lay still once more.

But it was terribly cold; he was horribly thirsty, and fifty yards away
the beech trees ended and the sun was shining hotly on the chalky bank,
while just below there was clear water ready for scooping up with his
hand to moisten his cracked lips. In addition, there were blackberries
or, if not, dew-berries which he might reach. Only a poor apology for
breakfast, but delicious now if he could only get some between his lips.

He tried again, then again, each time the pain turning him sick; but
there was a great anxiety upon him now. His thoughts were no longer
dull and strained in a selfish stupor; he was awake, fully awake, and in
mental as well as bodily agony. For his thoughts were upon those at the
little manor, and he knew that they must have passed a sleepless night
on his account, and he knew, too, that in all probability his uncle had
been out with others searching for him, certain that some evil must have
befallen or he would have returned.

It was a terrible wrench, and he felt as if his muscles were being torn;
but with teeth set, he struggled till he was upon hands and knees, and
then made his first attempt to crawl, if only for a foot or two.

At last, after shrinking again and again, he made the effort, and the
start made, he persevered, though all the time there was a singing in
his ears, the dead leaves and blackened beech-mast seemed to heave and
fall like the surface of the sea, and a racking agony tortured his
limbs. But he kept on foot by foot, yard by yard, with many halts and a
terrible drag upon his mental powers before he could force himself to
recommence. How long that little journey of fifty or sixty yards took
he could not tell; all he knew was that he must get out of the forest
and into the sunshine, where he might be seen by those who came in
search of him; and there was water there--the pure clear water which
would be so grateful to his parched lips and dry, husky throat.

The feeling of chill was soon gone, for his efforts produced a burning
pain in every muscle, but in a dim way he knew that he was getting
nearer the edge, for it was lighter, and a faint splashing sound and the
beating of wings told of wild-fowl close at hand in that clear water.

On then again so slowly, but foot by foot, till the last of the