When I started to return to the mill--which I did after a long religious service and a light supper--Agnes proposed to ride a short distance with me, and then I brought her back, and she went part way with me again, so that it was quite late when I finally got away. The country being familiar to me, I drove through the field paths to shorten the distance, and hurried along as rapidly as I could, for I knew they would be waiting for me. As I came out into the main road, and was closing a gate, a horseman dashed by me, riding toward the mill, and I saw with some surprise that it was Clinton Bragg, on the wicked, vicious horse. I followed leisurely, preferring to avoid him, but probably knowing who it was he stopped beside the road, allowing me to pass so closely that I could have touched him with my hand had I wished. Then he would run by, as if to frighten my horses, and this performance he repeated so many times that I would have pulled him off his horse and beaten him had I the strength. When I arrived at the Ford he was there before me, allowing his vicious horse to drink below the dam, and while I stood on the hill looking at him he rode out and galloped off through the dark woods, as though he could see better by night than by day. I could not help thinking that the place where he disappeared would be a favorable one for a murder, and that if Bragg had a desperate enemy it would not be safe for him to ride through such a dark wood at night. I believe he wanted me to know he had taken the road to the Shepherds, with the hope that I would tell Jo, and annoy him; but for once he went to his trouble for nothing, for when I went into the house Jo was sound asleep in the middle bed, and resting easily and quietly. CHAPTER XIX. THE FALL OF REV. JOHN WESTLOCK. One Sunday morning, in the fall of the year, after I had got out of bed and dressed myself,--I was still occupying a room in connection with Martin in the building where the business of printing was carried on,--I found a letter on my desk addressed in my father’s writing, and after Martin had gone out I sat down to read it. The first line startled me, for it read as follows:-- MY DEAR SON,--When this falls into your hands I shall be travelling the broad road I have so often warned others against; an outcast, and disgraced in the sight of God and man; for I am going away, and shall never come back. I shall not attempt to tell you why I am going away, for I do not know myself, except that I am discontented as I am, which has been my condition since I can remember. I don’t know that I believe the step I am taking will make me more contented, but I know I cannot remain as I am, for the Devil has complete possession of me, and leads me to do that which is most disgraceful and wicked.