Drexel had still urgent need of his wits. But as the grim shape of the Fortress withdrew into the rearward gloom, the breaking strain of the last half-hour began to relax, and he began to feel the reaction of the two nights he had not slept, and of the two nights and a day that he had been stretched upon the rack of an almost superhuman suspense. Moreover, the gash from the governor’s knife, mere flesh-wound though it was, had bled profusely in the office, and now in the sleigh he could feel the warm blood creeping down his back and chest. He was dizzy, and he felt himself grow weaker, yet he dared not call anyone from the van to bear him company, for the minutes were too precious to use a single one of them in a transfer to the sleigh. He clenched his teeth and tried to hold fast to his slipping strength. But he grew more dizzy, more weak. His horse, noting the lack of incitement from behind, dropped into a lazy jog, and Drexel saw the van pull rapidly away. He had not the strength to mend the horse’s pace, nor the strength to call out, even had he dared. The gap widened; the van was lost in the darkness ahead; he felt his strength ebbing--ebbing. He made a supreme effort to hold on to consciousness; but suddenly blankness closed in upon him, and he lurched sidewise from the low sleigh out upon the snow. His next sensation was of some one shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes. It was still night; he was sitting on the snow; and at his back was a support which he realized was a man’s knee. “Awake yet?” asked a voice. “Yes,” he said weakly. “What time is it?” “Five.” He had lain there for an hour or more. Where were Sonya and the others? He started to rise, and the man put his hand beneath his shoulders and assisted him to his feet. Drexel now made out that his Good Samaritan wore the uniform of a policeman, and he had a moment of poignant fear. “A drop too much, eh?” said the officer with heavy facetiousness. Drexel was more than content to have that remain the explanation of his state. He was still weak and there was an icy numbness through all his bones. He begged the use of the policeman’s arm for a little way, which was granted him; and after a few blocks of that support he felt sufficiently recovered to thank his obliging crutch and venture on alone. At last he gained the house of Sabatoff. The Keeper of the Seals listened in amazement to his sketch of what had happened in the three hours since they had parted; and on learning of the governor’s knife he quickly bared Drexel’s shoulder and dressed the wound with no little skill.