e strange being quite beyond their ken. So he desisted; of
course they could not understand him, and, of course, they knew nothing
he wished to know. In this prison a sense of motion and direction was as
naught.

Fortunately Mr. Heatherbloom's muscles were in good condition and there
was not a superfluous ounce on him, but he needed all his energies to
escape the fist and the boot that day, to keep pace with the others. The
perspiration poured from his face in sooty rivulets; he knew if he gave
way what kind of consideration to expect. He was being tested. The
foreman's eyes, themselves, seemed full of sparks; there was something
tentative, expectant in their curious gleam as they rested on him.
Heatherbloom now could hardly keep to his feet; his own eyes burned. The
flames danced as if with a living hatred of him; in a semi-stupor he
almost forgot the sword, without, that swung over him, held but by a
thread that might be cut any instant.

He could not have lasted many minutes more when relief came; sodden
sullen men took the places. Heatherbloom staggered out with his own
herd; he felt the need of food as well as rest. He groped his way
somewhere--into a dark close place; he found black-looking bread--or,
was it handed to him? He ate, threw himself down, thought of her!--then
ceased to think at all. The sword, his companions or specters no longer
existed for him.

It may be some spiritual part of him during that physical coma, drew
from a supermundane source beatific drafts, for he awoke refreshed, his
mind clear, even alert. He gazed around; he, alone, moved. His
companions resembled so many bags of rags cast here and there; only the
snores, now diminuendo, then crescendo, dispelled the illusion. A
smoking lamp threw a paucity of light and a good deal of odor around
them. Was it night? The shadows played hide-and-seek in corners; there
was no sound of the sea.

Mr. Heatherbloom moved toward a door. His pulses seemed to throb in
rhythm with the engines whose strong pulsations shook those limp
unconscious forms. He opened the iron door and looked out. Only
blackness, relieved by a low-power electric light, met his gaze. He
crept from the place.

Why did not some one rise up to detain him? Surely he was watched. He
experienced an uncanny sense of being allowed to proceed just so far,
when invisible fingers would pounce upon him, to hurl him back. The soot
still lay on his face; he had seen no bucket and water. At