an accuser till he slunk from me and left me alone, as I would be alone
from now to the end.

So I had quickened my pace, hobbling up the starlit road to the
school-house. There I was driven by sheer exhaustion to the shelter of
the doorway, and in the narrow refuge I huddled, waiting and listening.
The keen wind found me out and seemed to take joy in rushing in on me
in biting gusts and then whirling away over the flat. By and by it
brought me the rollicking air my brother whistled, and then came the
sound of foot-falls. In a moment he would be passing, and I arose,
intending to hail him. It was easy enough when I heard only his
whistling to picture myself confrating him in anger, but now that in
the starlight I could see his dark form coming nearer and nearer; now
that he had broken into a snatch of a song we had often sung together,
my courage failed me and I slunk farther into my retreat.

So Tim passed me. He went on toward the village, singing cheerfully
for company's sake, and I stood alone, in the shadow of the
school-house woods, listening. His song died away. I fancied I heard
the beat of his stick on the bridge; then there was silence.

I turned. Through the pines on the eastward ridge the moon was
climbing, and now the white road stretched away before me. It was the
road to her house. The light that gleamed at the head of the hill was
her light, and many a night in this same spot I had stopped to take a
last look at it. It used to wink so softly to me as I waved a hand in
good-night. Now it seemed to leer. The friendly beacon on the hill
had become a wrecker's lantern. A battered hulk of a man, here I was,
stranded by the school-house. As the ship on the beach pounds
helplessly to and fro, now trying to drive itself farther into its