"Go, my daughter. But as thou dost value thy soul and the soul of thy boy, entangle thyself no further till thou hast taken counsel once more with me. And may Almighty God be merciful unto thee, and, forgiving thee thy sins, bring thee to life everlasting!" Elinor rose from her knees, and drawing aside the curtain passed out into the hall, while Father White tarried for the candles. Neville came in at the outer door, bringing with him a gust of wind and cold. Knut rose from the hearth with a low growl and moved suspiciously toward the stranger, then, drawn by some magnetic attraction, he nosed about him and at last fawned upon him and rubbed against his legs, seeking a caress. Neville bent over and patted his head. "Good dog!" he said, "I would I had had you with me in the forest yonder. Belike I had not been so long in finding my way out. Ah, Mistress Calvert," he added, peering into the shadow from which gleamed the shimmer of Elinor's gown, "I am grieved to have kept the household awake so late, and all for naught, since I failed as completely in the search for Father Mohl as though he had vanished like a spirit in the air." "Yet of old you were a swift runner. I have seen you chase a hare across the fields at Frome and keep the pace." "Ay, but that was over Somerset turf, and with the light of day to guide me." "I am much disappointed--" Neville felt the chill in Elinor's tone. "Not more disappointed than I," he answered. "'Tis the elements must bear the blame. When I started out the moonlight shone full on the path, and I could see my way for a quarter of a mile, but even then the clouds were hanging round the moon like wolves about a sheep-fold. In half an hour she was swallowed up, and then, to confuse me the more, a light snow began falling, slowly at first, then faster and faster, till, what with the wind in my face and the snow on the path, I lost the trail somewhere near the cross-road. Before I knew it I was caught in a thicket of brush and briar, and when I had struggled out there was no hope of catching the priest." Elinor looked closely at Neville. He was very white and breathing heavily. "You are hurt," she exclaimed, moving toward him with quick sympathy. "See, your garments are pulled this way and that as if you had struggled with worse foes than the wind." "Only contact with a few brambles through which I forced my way back to the road I had lost." "But your jerkin is torn--" "Ay, caught on a stray branch which hung too low." "And there is blood on your boots--yes, and on your hands. Oh, tell me what you have gone through while we sat here at our ease by the hearth!"