ill!

If only his fate were a tangible thing, to be grappled with! To meet a
foe and fight hand to hand to the death was not so hard as to yield
himself to the inevitable. Sullenly he sat with his head in his hands,
and life seemed to stretch before him, leading to a black chasm. But one
ray of light was there to follow--"Cass, Cass." If only he would accept
the help offered him and go to the station, take his seat in the train,
and find himself in Farington, while still his pursuers were scouring
the mountains for him, he might--he might win out. Moodily and
stubbornly he resisted the thought.

At last, screened by the darkness, he turned out his soiled and torn
garments, and divesting himself of every article Thryng had given him,
he placed them carefully in the valise. Then, relieved of one
humiliation, he set himself again on the path toward Hanging Rock cabin.

As he passed the great holly tree where Cassandra had sat beside him, he
placed his hand on the stone and paused. His heart leaned toward her. He
wanted her. Should he go down to her now and refuse to leave her? But
no. He had promised. Something warm splashed down upon his hand as he
bent over the rock. He sprang up, ashamed to weep, and, seizing the
doctor's valise, plunged on through the shadows up the steep ascent.

He had no definite idea of how he would explain his act, for he did not
comprehend his own motives. It was only a wordless repugnance that
possessed him, vague and sullen, against this man's offered friendship;
and his relief was great when he found David asleep before his open
door.

Stealthily he entered and placed his burden beneath the couch, gazed a
moment at the sleeping face whereon the firelight still played, and
softly crept away. Cassandra should know that she had no need to thank
the Englishman for his freedom.

Then came the weary tramp down the mountain, skulking and hiding by day,
and struggling on again by night--taking by-paths and unused
trails--finding his uncertain way by moonlight and starlight--barked at
by dogs, and followed by hounds baying loudly whenever he came near a
human habitation--wading icy streams and plunging through gorges to
avoid cabins or settlements--keeping life in him by gnawing raw turnips
which had been left in the fields ungathered, until at last, pallid,
weary, dirty, and utterly forlorn, he found himself, in the half-light
of the dawn of the fourth day, near Farington. Shivering with cold, h