He sat down on a moss-covered stone aflame with a passion, which was
of both blood and spirit. How beautiful the world seemed! How
gloriously the sun shone on the pines of the mountain! How blue was
the sky! How white the floating clouds!

The preacher was singing a hymn.





CHAPTER XI




One cloudy night a few days later Mostyn was walking home from the
river where he had spent the day fishing. Thinking that he might
shorten the way by so doing, he essayed a direct cut through the dense
wood intervening between the river and Drake's. It was a mistake, for
he had gone only a short way when he discovered that he had lost his
bearings. He wandered here and there for several hours, and it was
only when the moon, which had been under a cloud since sundown, came
out, that he finally found a path which led him in the right
direction.

He was nearing the house when in the vague light, due to the moon's
being veiled again, he saw a man stealthily climb over the fence,
stand as if watching the house for a moment, and then creep through