ack to his memory all that he had read. His heart began to beat more
quickly. Then the night fell, and one by one the stars shone out. There
was no wind. The air was heavy. Susie came downstairs and began to talk
with Dr Porhoet. But they spoke in a low tone, as if they were afraid
that someone would overhear. They were faint now with want of food. The
hours went one by one, and the striking of a clock filled them each time
with a mysterious apprehension. The lights in the village were put out
little by little, and everybody slept. Susie had lighted the lamp, and
they watched beside it. A cold shiver passed through her.

'I feel as though someone were lying dead in the room,' she said.

'Why does not Arthur come?'

They spoke inconsequently, and neither heeded what the other said. The
window was wide open, but the air was difficult to breathe. And now the
silence was so unusual that Susie grew strangely nervous. She tried to
think of the noisy streets in Paris, the constant roar of traffic, and
the shuffling of the crowds toward evening as the work people returned to
their homes. She stood up.

'There's no air tonight. Look at the trees. Not a leaf is moving.'

'Why does not Arthur come?' repeated the doctor.

'There's no moon tonight. It will be very dark at Skene.'

'He's walked all day. He should be here by now.'

Susie felt an extraordinary oppression, and she panted for breath. At
last they heard a step on the road outside, and Arthur stood at the
window.

'Are you ready to come?' he said.

'We've been waiting for you.'

They joined him, bringing the few things that Dr Porhoet had said were
necessary, and they walked along the solitary road that led to Skene.
On each side the heather stretched into the dark night, and there was
a blackness about it that was ominous. There was no sound save that of
their own steps. Dimly, under the stars, they saw the desolation with
which they were surrounded. The way seemed very long. They were utterly
exhausted, and they could hardly drag one foot after the other.

'You must let me rest for a minute,' said Susie.

They did not answer, but stopped, and she sat on a boulder by the
wayside. They stood motionless in front of her, waiting patiently till
she was ready. After a little while she forced herself to get up.

'Now I can go,' she said.

Still they did not speak, but walked on. They moved like figures in
a dream, with a stealthy directness, as though they acte