My head was so dizzy and bewildered after this adventure that I lay still for two or three minutes, utterly oblivious of all Miss Dolly’s well-instilled principles with regard to damp ground and rheumatism. When, however, I had recovered myself sufficiently slowly to rise to my feet, I began to realise what had happened. I had fallen in with one of the numerous herds of goats which we had often seen in our drives, and which, no doubt, frequented the common. I must have stumbled over one member of the flock as they lay huddled together, and this must have startled and aroused the whole band. Yes, it was all plain enough now. It was a horribly prosaic, unromantic incident, and a horribly uncomfortable one at the same time. If ever a young lady made vows never again to run away from any of her relations—no, not even from a forty-seventh cousin—it was I, Beatrice Warmington, that night. On I went, wading through the heavy, marshy ground, shivering with external cold, yet at intervals hot with inward fear. There seemed no possible way out of my self-incurred difficulties. The darkness was as dense as ever, the storm as unrelenting. I had completely broken down, and was sobbing bitterly. What was to become of me? And the wind answered mockingly, “What?” My situation appeared to me, in truth, to be growing one of real danger. I was becoming so weary that I did not think I could drag my tired limbs much further; a half-stupor was creeping over my brain, and my senses were beginning to be partially numbed and blunted with terror and fatigue. It seemed to me that I must soon sink down and glide into unconsciousness. I heard in the wind the voice of Lily calling me, half sadly, half reproachfully; and with the thought of Lily came the thought of prayer. But prayer had never been to me what it was to Lily; I could not lean on it as she would have done in my situation. I strove to get hold of words which would tell of my sorrow for my rebellious wilfulness, which would be a cry to my Father above; but they slipped away from my lips, and would not come when I wanted them, as they would have come like helpful angels to Lily. I was now evidently beginning to descend a slope of some sort; I could tell that from the feeling of the ground as I trod it. The earth I was walking upon appeared to be less swampy than it had hitherto been, but it was more slippery. Before long this slipperiness became something that there was no contending against; my feet lost all power of stopping themselves; I was sliding swiftly downward, as if I was upon ice. Whither was I going? The question flashed confusedly through my bewildered brain in the midst of the storm and the darkness, and still I flew forward at always increasing speed. All my senses began to float into a dim whirlpool, and I could scarcely take firm hold of any distinct idea.