but he saw that he had
no need of further revenge. The man's body seemed to have shrunk into
itself, and to have grown smaller. His lower jaw hung down, giving a
purposeless expression to the face and mouth. The eyes were vacant and
stared out on space, focussing nothing. Whatever anger he had had was
turned to pity as he regarded him. So Spurling had not known that
Mordaunt was a woman! And the body which was found at Forty-Mile had
not been clothed in a woman's dress! How Strangeways must be laughing
out there, alone in the coldness, three feet beneath the snow at the
bend!

Yet, for all his pity, Granger could not bring himself to touch the
man--he looked too absorbed in his tragedy. Out of decency he turned
his back upon him, hurrying his task to an end. Already he had been
too long about it; they had no time to linger. Peggy's absence might
have many purposes; when she returned, she might not come
unaccompanied. Before he made a start, after his night of watching he
would require rest.

Spurling had drawn away from him and was huddled in a corner,
whispering to himself. He must say and do something to brace him up,
and show to him that in his eyes he was still a man. If he didn't
recover quickly, they would have to postpone their journey. He was a
fool to have shown him that.

The last of the papers had been burned; he tied the few which he had
preserved into a little bundle, and thrust them in his breast. Going
over to Spurling, he laid his hand on his shoulder and said, "Druce,
old fellow, I'm very tired. I want to take an hour's sleep before we
set out. You'd best watch and see that nothing happens. In two hours
it'll be sunset; wake me before then."

He raised up his haggard face and nodded, but he did not look at him
squarely. Granger, having made up the fire, laid himself down.

When he awoke, he found that the room was in darkness; it must have
been night for several hours. It was the coldness which had aroused
him, for the fire had gone out.

He supposed that Spurling must be sleeping, so he called to him,
"Spurling, Spurling, are you there?"

There was no answer. He listened for his breathing, but could hear
nothing. Getting upon his feet as swiftly as the stiffness of his
muscles would allow, he groped his way over to the corner where he had
last seen him. He was not there. Then he lit the lamp, and saw that
the room was empty.

His first thought was that, in his despair, he had gone outside an