;--they would discover the money I carry in my vest lining, and a
letter to Vesey which would declare my actual identity. Then I should be
called a fool or a madman--most probably the latter. No one would
know,--no one would guess--except Vesey--the real object with which I
started on this wild goose chase after the impossible. It is a foolish
quest! Perhaps after all I had better give it up, and return to the old
wearisome life of luxury,--the old ways!--and die in my bed in the usual
'respectable' style of the rich, with expensive doctors, nurses and
medicines set in order round me, and all arrangements getting ready for
a 'first-class funeral'!"

He laughed drearily. Another flash of lightning, followed almost
instantaneously by a terrific crash of thunder, brought him to a pause.
He was now at the bottom of the hill which he had ascended from the
other side, and perceived a distinct and well-trodden path which
appeared to lead in a circuitous direction towards the sea. Here there
seemed some chance of getting out of the labyrinth of hills into which
he had incautiously wandered, and, summoning up his scattered forces, he
pressed on. The path proved to be an interminable winding way,--first
up--then down,--now showing glimpses of the raging ocean, now dipping
over bare and desolate lengths of land,--and presently it turned
abruptly into a deep thicket of trees. Drenched with rain and tired of
fighting against the boisterous wind which almost tore his breath away,
he entered this dark wood with a vague sense of relief,--it offered some
sort of shelter, and if the trees attracted the lightning and he were
struck dead beneath them, what did it matter after all! One way of dying
was as good (or as bad) as another!

The over-arching boughs dripping with wet, closed over him and drew him,
as it were, into their dense shadows,--the wind shrieked after him like
a scolding fury, but its raging tone grew softer as he penetrated more
deeply into the sable-green depths of heavily foliaged solitude. His
weary feet trod gratefully on a thick carpet of pine needles and masses
of the last year's fallen leaves,--and a strong sweet scent of mingled
elderflower and sweetbriar was tossed to him on every gust of rain. Here
the storm turned itself to music and revelled in a glorious symphony of
sound.

"Oh ye Winds of God, bless ye the Lord; praise Him and magnify Him for
ever!

"Oh ye Lightnings and Clouds, bless ye the Lord; praise