When he was alone he rose slowly and locked his door. He wanted to do right, but he was like a man in the fury and darkness of a great tempest: he could not see any road at all. There was a Bible on his dressing-table, and he opened it; but the verses mingled together, and the sense of everything seemed to escape him. The hand of the Great Father was stretched out to him in the dark, but he could not find it. He knew that at the bottom of his heart lay a wish that David would escape from justice. He knew that a selfish shame about his own fair character mingled with his father's love; his motives and feelings were so mixed that he did not dare to bring them, in their pure truthfulness, to the feet of God; for as yet he did not understand that "like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear Him;" he thought of the Divine Being as one so jealous for His own rights and honor that He would have the human heart a void, so that he might reign there supremely. So all that terrible night he stood smitten and astonished on a threshold he could not pass. In another room the question was being in a measure solved for him. Cassie brought in meat and bread and wine, and David ate, and felt refreshed. Then the love of life returned, and the terror of a shameful death; and he laid his hand upon his rifle and looked round to see what chance of escape his father had left him. Plato stood at the door, Lulu sat by his side, holding his hand. On her face there was an expression of suffering, at once defiant and despairing--a barren suffering, without hope. They had come to that turn on their unhappy road when they had to bid each other "Farewell!" It was done very sadly, and with few words. "You must go now, beloved." He held her close to his heart and kissed her solemnly and silently. The next moment she turned on him from the open door a white, anguished face. Then he was alone with Plato. "Plato, I must go now. Will you saddle the brown mare for me?" "She am waiting, Massa David. I tole Cassie to get her ready, and some bread and meat, and _dis_, Massa Davie, if you'll 'blige ole Plato." Then he laid down a rude bag of buckskin, holding the savings of his lifetime. "How much is there, Plato?" "Four hundred dollars, sar. Sorry it am so little." "It was for your freedom, Plato." "I done gib dat up, Massa Davie. I'se too ole now to git de rest. Ef you git free, dat is all I want." They went quietly out together. It was not long after midnight. The brown mare stood ready saddled in the shadow, and Cassie stood beside her with a small bag, holding a change of linen and some cooked food. The young man mounted quickly, grasped the kind hands held out to him, and then rode away into the darkness. He went softly at first, but when he reached the end of the avenue at a speed which indicated his terror and his mental suffering.