ly under the ice. The broken pieces pushed him. One arm
was under already, and he could not get it out. The animal horror of a
trap seized him. He had not known it would be like this. He was not
prepared for this.

The other self fought furiously for life, clutching and tearing at the
breaking ice.

"Call," it said to him, "while there is still time."

Hugh set his teeth.

The ice broke in a great piece and tilted heavily against him. It was
over one shoulder.

"Call," said the other self, sharply, again, "or you will be under the
ice."

And up to the quiet heaven rose once and again a hoarse, wild cry of
human agony and despair.

CHAPTER LIII

Ueber allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh;
In allen Wipfeln
Spuerest Du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Voegelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest Du auch.
--GOETHE.

The doctor was very late. Rachel, who was going to the Watch Service,
waited for the Bishop in the hall till he came out of his study with the
curate, who had doubts.

When the young man had left, Rachel said, hesitating:

"I shall not go to the service if Dr. Brown does not arrive before then.
Hugh was to have come with us. I don't want him to go all through the
night thinking--perhaps if I am prevented going you will see him, and
speak a word to him."

"My dear," said the Bishop, "I went across to his rooms two hours ago,
directly you went up to Hester."

He loved Rachel, but he wondered at her lack of imagination.

"Two hours ago! And what did you say to him?"

"I did not see him. I was too late. He was gone."

"Gone!" said Rachel, faintly. "Where?"

"I do not know. I went up to his rooms. All his things were still
there."

"Where is he now?"

"I do not know."

The Bishop looked at her compassionately. She had been a long time
forgiving him. While she hesitated he had said to her, "Where is he
now?" and she had not understood.

Her face became pinched and livid. She understood now, after the event.

"I am frightened for him," she said.

The Bishop had been alarmed while she poured out his tea before they
began to talk.

"Perhaps he has gone back to London," she said, her eyes widening with a
vague dread.

The Bishop had gone on to the station, and had ascertained that Hugh had
not left by the one train which had stopped at Southminster between
seven and nine. But he did not add to her anxiety by