In the past--from a standpoint of fixed opinions and no experience--Maurice Malherb had condemned suicide and pronounced the action improper under any circumstances. But now, in the light of that day's deed, it seemed that suicide opened the sole road which led from ignominy and disgrace immeasurable. He had forfeited his life. His exhausted body cried out for food and rest; but his mind was active, and chaos, untouched by the light of any star, raged there. He stayed his steps, sat down amid old ruins and brooded upon death. His purpose slowly established itself, and he determined to depart in such a manner that no man should know of his going or gaze upon his corpse. He might perish in the tenantless wastes westward of the Beam, and feed vermin, and make the wild asphodel sweeter, as his victim would; or he might choose some forgotten cavern or deserted mine where ready graves yawned to hide dead things until doom. He knew of such places, and recollected a natural chamber hard by Dartmeet. Here in the woods lay a deep hole that ran underground, and was known as the Pixies' Holt. He determined to creep thither, as old dying foxes did, that he might perish in peace. Then it was that, rising again and stumbling forward, in doubt whether his strength would last to take him to his goal, a voice reached him and Malherb heard a faint cry for succour. At first he thought it but a late lamb that had lost its mother's warm side and bleated for cold. Then the sound became articulate, and, forgetting his own circumstances, he listened very intently. Presently he shouted with all his might, and from under the earth came instant answer. "Help me--help me! Come back to me, Lovey, or I shall die!" Then were the man's ears opened, and he heard his daughter's voice. She was buried alive and at hand, for he stood in Hangman's Hollow. Now Malherb forgot everything but his girl. "'Tis I, Grace--your father! Be of good cheer. I'm close--I'm close!" He rushed hither and thither, bruising himself against the broken walls. Then he entered the _cul-de-sac_, and stood, and cried out again. "Where are you now? How shall I come at you?" "I am here beneath you, dear father! There is a great stone--part of the floor where you stand. It reaches to the left-hand wall. Stamp every way, and when you stamp upon the inner edge the stone will turn slowly and show you a steep stair." She heard him grope about and stamp as she directed. Then he struck the cover and it turned, and showed him steps that sank into the darkness. Slowly he let himself down, and soon stood at the bottom with a starry space of sky above and the glimmer of the moss around him. "Move gently towards me," cried Grace. "A flat stone lies between us, with flint and steel and candles upon it."