She did not know how narrowly she succeeded. For no sooner had she reached and taken the track west, climbing a shallow hill and then dropping again out of sight, than the expectant officer on his panting steed arrived at the meeting of ways, and began climbing steadily the final stretch to the hut, and the long-awaited rendezvous with his imagined lover. Fourteen The man called Jamie spent the night, and the two days following, at the cottage of the fisherman. This had in no way been planned. But he had woken trembling and feverish, and with a deep cough that would not be silenced. It was as if only now, when it had reached a safe haven, that his body could tell him of its many ills and deprivations. The old man insisted that he remain in bed, at least until the high fever broke. As to thoughts of his own safety, he had none; and with the heavy overcast and clinging fog he deemed it prudent, and a necessary risk, to keep him from the cold and damp of out-of-doors. The younger man at length agreed, not because it seemed wise, but because it was inevitable. He had no choice. Once so healthy and robust, he now felt a dull ache in the very marrow of his bones, and a chill that would not be abated. So he remained in bed, and with forced patience, passed the two hard days. But on the succeeding morning---perhaps two hours before Mary fled in panic from the hut---he felt again the deep restlessness which had troubled him three days before. Something was wrong. Someone dear to him was in danger. He could not have said how he knew this; but know it he did, and resolved then and there to pay call upon those he loved. Though he was still far from well, and fully realized the risk, this instinctive sense would not be overruled. He now found it as impossible to remain in the cottage as it had previously been to leave. He thanked the fisherman for all that he had done, and promised to send word to him, or come himself, as soon as he knew that all was well. And he promised to be careful. The veteran was concerned: his experience had taught him the inadvisability of haste. But seeing the intensity of the younger man's face he could only wish him well, and after he had gone, say a silent prayer for him in his own fashion. The wheels of fate were turning. Events were in God's hands now. * * * Mary wandered aimlessly across the high plateau toward the sea, feeling lost and miserable. As she walked she watched the fog rise slowly and evaporate, along with all faith in herself. Vaguely she told herself that she would never again live with her mother in the dark, dismal hut, where everything was smoke and confusion. But even this seemed a wavering resolve. How could she promise herself anything, when she had been so weak.....