's no good with a horse--my horse too--I guess we better go
after him, eh?"

"Stay where you are!" shouted the doctor. "Farther along the forest
begins again, and these hailstones are snapping off the branches as if
they had been slashed with axes. I can hear. You may be killed.
Surely this cannot last long!"

But there seemed no diminution of the hail; it lay a foot deep in
pieces the size of marbles or of small apples, and the autumnal grasses
and bushes of juniper and sumach were beaten flat with the rocky ground
from which they derived scant sustenance.

The three men were by this time suffering greatly from the sudden and
unexpected cold, and as it was impossible to continue the drive to
Calvaire in face of the biting hail, they were about to attempt to
return to St. Ignace when the darkness partly lifted, the air grew
gradually milder, and streams of steady rain came pouring down;
overhead the clouds met, charged, and thunder raged at intervals.

Ringfield, now greatly alarmed and fancying he heard noises from the
wood in front, even cries of distress, could no longer be detained, but
bidding farewell to the others strode forward in the direction of the
forest, slipping as he walked and already drenched to the skin, his
clothes freezing upon him and clogging his difficult steps.
Fortunately, for one who did not know the locality well, the daylight
had partly returned. He judged that by keeping to the road he ran no
risk of losing his way, but when a turn revealed another road, he was
naturally perplexed, as the face of the country had greatly changed
since he had made his last visit to the Manor House. Afraid to stand
long, for trees were thick about him and the lightning still flashing,
he went on again up the new road, and after a few minutes running saw a
deserted barn in a hollow and made for it. In this dell or glade the
trees had been thinned out, either by forest fires or by the owner, but
one tall pine remained beside the forlorn and ruined barn as if for
companionship--a lonely sentinel.

Ringfield, wet and shivering, rushed up to the barn door, and finding
it half-open had nearly flung himself through it when he was arrested
by voices within, or rather a voice--that of a woman. He did not
immediately think of Miss Clairville, for no horse nor conveyance were
outside, but, had he listened more carefully, he would have recognized
her educated accents; as it was, in a moment or two she herself c