Tuesday morning the thought came to me that perhaps Buck had fallen in the clutches of the law. I was aware of a sensation of relief at the probability, and the fact that two days and nights had passed without any untoward manifestation would appear to render the idea altogether reasonable. Bart Crawley, furious and revengeful, had started hotfoot for the county seat Saturday to issue a warrant. It was the duty of the sheriff or a deputy to serve it at once, and take the offender into custody. I resolved to go to Hebron and find out. I knew I was taking a great risk, for the road was lonely and secluded, and there was the thick forest to traverse before reaching Lizard Point. No man could wish for better surroundings in which to commit a hidden crime. And, however watchful I might be, I would stand no chance whatever with my life should an effort be made against it. There was not a rod of ground along the entire route where an ambush could not have been successfully laid. The outlook was depressing, but I decided upon the venture anyway, for could I know the smith was lodged in jail, a grievous burden would be lifted from my mind. There were no precautions I could take before starting forth. I simply bore my stout stick in my left hand, and kept my right in the side pocket of my coat, clasping the handle of my revolver. That was all I could do. A sense of foolhardiness enveloped me as I strode down from the plateau along the tree-bordered, vine-grown way. Would a truly well balanced person thus jeopardize his life? Most likely he would not. But a certain recklessness of spirit had come upon me, begotten of the Dryad's cruel absence, my long wait, and the abrupt aggressiveness of Buck. When a man's temperament becomes surcharged with a sentiment of this color, you may look for him to do things which had not even bordered his existence in saner moods. As I proceeded without molestation, a sort of dogged defiance gained ascendency and my head went higher, while my face became set in a mask of determination. I saw no one. I heard nothing but the peaceful sounds of Nature and her creatures. Surely Buck was in the toils, or he never would have let this golden opportunity go by unemployed. When I came to the tree-bridge my apprehensions had vanished; I did not dread the remainder of the journey. I was conscious of a sharp shock of pain when I looked at the still empty house where Celeste lived. Had I yielded to the importunity of the eager voices which began to clamor in my soul at the sight, I speedily would have become undone. I have not written of the terrific fight I have had since my sane self conquered that night on the peak, but the reason for this is that I do not want to appear absolutely silly in the eyes of those who may read these words. But it took all that was in me to hold to the hard path of sanity and common sense. My love for her of the wheat-gold hair--