If he were not afraid of its coming at once, he would have run back to the causeway to look for their lights,--and perhaps they had a fire. Why had he not brought an axe for a fire? "That rail fence above would have served perfectly,--nay, it is not five rods to a load of hickory we left the day before Thanksgiving. Surely one of them might come up to me with an axe. But maybe there is trouble below. They might have come with an axe--with an axe--with an axe--with an--axe"--"I am going to sleep," cried Silas,--aloud again this time,--as his head dropped heavily on the handle of the shovel he was resting on there in the lee of the stone wall. "I am going to sleep,--that will never do. Sentinel asleep at his post. Order out the relief. Blind his eyes. Kneel, sir. Make ready. Fire. That, sir, for sentinels asleep." And so Silas laughed grimly, and began his march again. Then he took his shovel and began a great pit where he supposed the track might be beneath him. "Anything to keep warm and to keep awake. But why did they not send up to him? Why was he here? Why was he all alone? He who had never been alone before. Was he alone? Was there companionship in the stars,--or in the good God who held the stars? Did the good God put me here? If he put me here, will he keep me here? Or did he put me here to die! To die in this cold? It is cold,--it is very cold! Is there any good in my dying? The train will run down, and they will see a dead body lying under the bridge,--black on the snow, with a red lantern by it. Then they will stop. Shall I--I will--just go back to see if the lights are at the bend. I will leave the lantern here on the edge of this wall!" And so Silas turned, half benumbed, worked his way nearly out of the gorge, and started as he heard, or thought he heard, a baby's scream. "A thousand babies are starving, and I am afraid to stay here to give them their life," he said. "There is a boy fit for a soldier! Order out the relief! Drum-head court-martial! Prisoner, hear your sentence! Deserter, to be shot! Blindfold,--kneel, sir! Fire! Good enough for deserters!" And so poor Silas worked back again to the lantern. And now he saw and felt sure that Orion was bending downward, and he knew that the night must be broken; and, with some new hope, throwing down the shovel with which he had been working, he began his soldier tramp once more,--as far as soldier tramp was possible with those trailing snow-shoes,--tried again on "No war nor battle sound," broke down on "Cynthia's seat" and the "music of the spheres;" but at last,--working on "beams," "long beams," and "that with long beams,"--he caught the stanzas he was feeling for, and broke out exultant with,-- "At last surrounds their sight, A globe of circular light That with long beams the shame-faced night arrayed; The helmed cherubim And sworded seraphim Are seen in glittering ranks--" "Globe of circular light--am I dreaming, or have they come!"--