Be that as it may, one evening at sundown he saw the forest facing him. It lay a dark patch on the horizon, backed by torn clouds through which the sunset sky showed red and lurid. Around him was the pathless earth, rough and very desolate. No sign of human habitation was in sight. Rocky boulders flung up here and there among the coarse-grassed earth loomed with uncouth shapes in the waning light. To his thinking they seemed cast there by some mighty spirit in grim play; one, who, wearying of the game, had withdrawn to some distant region, the loneliness now emphasized by his one-time presence there. Behind the forest the torn clouds began piecing together in a heaped ominous mass, the red light obliterated. The heavy air, exceeding sultry, bespoke storm. Far off, to the right, he saw a white road climbing a hillside. A bare tree, set where the top of the hill touched the sky, flung a couple of branches wide-spread from its trunk. Cross-like it crowned the summit; leafless, dead, yet symbol of the Tree of Life. Peregrine looked towards the road. Doubtless it led some whither. But where? There was the question. Also it was far off and very steep. A storm was brewing. Already he could hear the low muttering of thunder. To gain yonder road and seek some distant shelter along it would entail a very thorough drenching before any goal had been attained. The forest was but a quarter the distance from him. He might well seek harbourage there. Yet, despite the thought, his eyes turned again towards the distant road. An’ he were sure of shelter beyond the summit of the climb he might risk the storm which very certainly would break upon him. For the space of some moments he hesitated. Then common sense won the day. The white road might lead him but on some fool’s errand. Before him lay obvious cover from the oncoming deluge. He stepped out across the coarse grass, now hastening his steps somewhat. Nearing the forest the grass became shorter and smoother, but here the bog began to show itself. “I bargained not for this,” said Peregrine, as his feet sank into the slush. Even as he spoke heavy drops began to fall; thunder muttered very ominously. A third time he glanced towards the distant road. “Bah!” he said, “’tis too far off. A sharp transit, and shelter will be gained.” He made quick strides forward. The atmosphere, which had been windless, was suddenly rent by a heavy blast. “Now it comes,” said Peregrine, as the storm beat upon him, and the rain sluiced down on the sodden earth. “A very miry way,” muttered Peregrine breathless as he gained the margin of the forest, looked ruefully down at his feet. Turning, he looked behind him. Where had been spongey earth were now wide pools, stung by falling rain, whipped by slashing wind. The further landscape was blotted out by mist and quick-gathering dusk.