continued, accompanying me to the gate, a postern in the high garden
wall. "Hadn't you better have a lantern?"

No; it was unnecessary. I could see splendidly, had the bump of
locality and as many more lies as would come to my tongue. I was
indeed burning to be gone.

A moment later I feared that I had shown this too plainly. For his
final handshake was hearty enough to send me away something ashamed
of my precipitancy, and with a further sense of having shown him
small gratitude for his kindly anxiety on my behalf. I would behave
differently to-morrow. Meanwhile I had new regrets.

At first it was comparatively easy to see, for the lights of the
house shone faintly among the nearer oaks. But the moon was hidden
behind heavy clouds, and I soon found myself at a loss in a terribly
dark zone of timber. Already I had left the path. I felt in my
pocket for matches. I had none.

My head was now clear enough, only deservedly heavy. I was still
quarrelling with myself for my indiscretions and my incivilities,
one and all the result of his wine and my weakness, and this new
predicament (another and yet more vulgar result) was the final
mortification. I swore aloud. I simply could not see a foot in
front of my face. Once I proved it by running my head hard against
a branch. I was hopelessly and ridiculously lost within a hundred
yards of the hall!

Some minutes I floundered, ashamed to go back, unable to proceed
for the trees and the darkness. I heard the heck running over its