But, waiting for no more, I turned and sprang away into the
denser gloom of the wood. And ever as I went, crashing and
stumbling through the underbrush, above the noise of my headlong
flight rang the hated name of the enemy I had journeyed so far to
kill--"Brandon! Brandon! Brandon!"


CHAPTER II

HOW I HEARD A SONG IN THE WOOD AT MIDNIGHT

Headlong went I, staying for nought and heedless of all
direction, but presently, being weary and short of breath, I
halted and leaning against a tree stood thus very full of bitter
thought. The storm was quite passed, but a chill wind was abroad
that moaned dismally, while all about me sodden trees dripped
with mournful, sobbing noises. And hearkening to all this, what
should I be thinking but of the sweet, soft tones of a woman's
voice that had stirred within me memories of better days, a voice
that had set me to dreams of a future, to fond and foolish
imaginings. For, though shamed and brutalised by my sufferings,
I was a man and in this past hour (strange though it do seem)
felt scorn of myself and a yearning for higher things, and all
this by no greater reason than the sound of a woman's voice in
the dark and the touch of her warm lips on my hand--and she a
Brandon! And now as the bitter mockery of it all rushed upon me,
fierce anger swept me and I broke forth into vile oaths and
cursings, English and Spanish, foul invectives picked up from the
rogues, my fellows in misery; and feeling a new shame therefore,