her and further away from Bittermeads just as before each step to
Bittermeads had been taking him further from Ottam's Wood.

He began to run again, even faster than before, and it was towards
Ottam's Wood that he ran, each step taking him further from Bittermeads
and further from the woman he loved in her bitter need and peril, who
looked to him for the help he could not give. With pain and anguish
he ran on, ran as men have seldom run--as seldom so much was hung upon
their running.

On and on he sped, fleet as the wind, fleet as the light breeze that
blew lightly by. A solitary villager trudging on some errand in this
lonely place, tells to this day the tale of the bearded, wild-eyed man
who raced so madly by him, raced on and down the long, straight road
till his figure dwindled and vanished in the distance.

A shepherd boy went home with a tale of a strange thing he had seen of
a man running so fast it seemed he was scarcely in sight before he was
gone again.

And except for those two and one other none saw him at all and he ran
his race alone beneath the skies, across the bare country side.

It was at a spot where the path ran between two high hedges that he came
upon a little herd of cows a lad was driving home.

It seemed impossible to pass through that tangle of horns and tails and
plunging hoofs, and so indeed it was, but Dunn took another way, and
with one leap, cleared the first beast clean and alighted on the back of
the second.

Before the startled beast could plunge away he leaped again from the
vantage of its back and landed on the open ground beyond and so on,
darting full speed past the staring driver, whose tale that he told when
he got home caused him to go branded for years as a liar.

On and on Dunn fled, without stay or pause, at the utmost of his speed
every second of time, every yard of distance. For he knew he had need
of every ounce of power he possessed or could call to his aid, since he
knew well that all, all, might hang upon a second less or more, and now
four miles lay behind him and four in front.

Still on he raced with labouring lungs and heart near to bursting
--onward still, swift, swift and sure, and now there were six miles
behind and only two in front, and he was beginning to come to a part of
the country that he knew.

Whether he was soon or late he had no idea or how long it was that he
had raced like this along the lonely country road at the full extremity
and limit