He plunged recklessly through the fields, and recklessly into Furnace Wood. Lowe could not be far off. He must have missed the fast train from Victoria, but the next one arrived only an hour or so later. Nigel hurried through the wood, now coal dark, and full of a strange dread for him--though he did not know of the ghosts which haunted it. As he caught his first glimpse of the faintly crimsoned west, he saw a figure outlined against it. Some one was coming down the slope of Furnace Field. It must be Lowe. The two men met on the rim of the wood. It was a moment of blackness for Quentin when he saw the blazing eyes and bitten lips of Furlonger. Strange words broke from his tongue-- "Hast thou found me, O mine enemy!" Nigel's great body towered over him. His lips had shrunk back from his teeth, which gleamed in the dying ugly light. Lowe remembered the other Furlonger who was dead. In Furnace Wood fate would not tamper with vengeance as at Cowsanish. Suddenly Nigel spoke. "Two good women have forgiven you--so I've nothing to say--or do. Pass----" He moved out of the path, and waved his hand towards the wood. "Pass----" he said. Quentin hesitated a moment. "Won't--won't you shake hands?" "No. Pass--and for God's sake, pass quickly." CHAPTER X A TOAST A few faint stars were in the west as Nigel tramped towards it. They seemed to swim up out of the eddies of crimson fog that floated there--they seemed to be showing little candles of hope to the man who turned his back on the east. The castle of the dayspring lay behind him, swallowed in thundery murk, but before him were the lights of a broader palace where dead hopes and dead hatreds keep state together. The west glowed and trembled and purpled--fiery rays rested on the woods, and reached over the sky to the moon. Then against the purple showed a tall chimney, rising from a high-roofed cottage that squatted in the fields of Wilderwick.