od, his extraordinary
passion for romance, the attraction of a thing simply because it was
daring and unusual, and finally, a very exceptionally strong will that,
for myself, I should call obstinacy.

The silence--as regards his old world--was absolute and unbroken. He
knew perfectly well that by now letters and telegrams must be waiting
for him at Jack's home, including at least one from Jenny, and probably
a dozen; but as to Jenny, he knew she would understand, and as to the
rest, he honestly did not care at all. He sent her a picture postcard
once or twice--from Ely, Peterborough, Sleaford and Newark--towns where
he stayed for a Sunday (I have seen in Sleaford the little room where he
treated himself to a bed for two nights)--and was content. He made no
particular plans for the future; he supposed something would turn up;
and he settled with himself, by the help of that same will which I have
mentioned before, that he would precipitate no conclusions till he
reached Barham later on in the early autumn.

His faith and morals during these weeks are a little difficult to
describe. As regards his morals, at least in one particular point, he
had formulated the doctrine that, when he was very hungry, game might
not be touched, but that rabbits and birds were permissible if they
could be snared in the hedges of the high-road. He became an expert at
this kind of thing, and Jack has described to me, as taught by Frank, a
few devices of which I was entirely ignorant. Frank tramped for a couple
of days with a gamekeeper out of work, and learned these things from
him, as well as one or two simple methods of out-of-door cookery. As
regards his religion, I think I had better not say much just now; very
curious influences were at work upon him: I can only say that Frank
himself has described more than once, when he could be induced to talk,
the extraordinary, and indeed indescribable, thrill with which he saw,
now and again, in town or country, a priest in his vestments go to the
altar--for he heard mass when he could....

So much, then, is all that I can say of the small, detached experiences
that he passed through, up to the point when he came out one evening at
sunset from one of the fields of Hampole where he had made hay all day,
when his job was finished, and where he met, for the first time, the
Major and Gertie Trustcott.

(II)

They were standing with the sunset light behind them, as a glory--two
disreputable figur