ck and lull herself into the stupor of patience?--to be kissed
and wept over, and preached resignation to?--left to sit mutely in
that quiet house, while he was dashed about, fighting with the sea for
life?--or watching the clock's travelling round hour after hour, not
knowing but that every peaceful minute might be the terrible one in
which he died?

"No," she said to herself, while the awful but delirious joy which has
struck many in a similar position, struck her suddenly, "he is not dead.
If he had died, he would have told me--me whom he so loved He could
not die anywhere, or at any time, but in some way or other I should
certainly have known it."

And as she stood in the dark road--quite alone with the hills and stars,
calmed down into a supernatural awe, Agatha almost expected to see her
husband stand before her in the old familiar likeness. She would not
have been afraid.

But no apparition came. All nature, visible and invisible, was silent
to her misery. If she went back to the house, all there would be silent
too.

She took her resolution--though it could hardly be called a resolution,
being merely the blind impulse of despair. She climbed over the
gate--she had not wit enough to unfasten it--and ran, swift and silent
as some wild animal, along the road to Kingcombe.

The rain ceased, and her dripping clothes dried of themselves, so as not
to encumber her movements. By some happy chance her feet were well shod,
and now, gathering her wits as she went, she put on the shawl--not the
bonnet, her head burned so, and felt so wild Just then, far into the
darkness, she heard wheels rolling and rolling. It was Mrs. Dugdale
driving along rapidly towards Thornhurst--but without one slash of the
whip or one word of conversation with Dunce. When she stopped to open a
gate the glare of the chaise-lamps showed the little black figure by the
roadside. Harrie screamed--she thought it was a ghost.

"Any news? any news?"

"Gracious! is it you, child? No news--none! Get up, quick, and come
home."

But Agatha fled on and on, noticing nothing, except once, when with a
start she saw the great black outline of Corfe Castle looming against
the night-sky.

[Illustration: Along the road page 394]

When she reached Kingcombe, it was still dark. She could not even have
found her way, save for the faint sky brightness lent by the overcast
moon; and the distance she had traversed was all but miraculous.
It seemed as if she ha