Christopher motioned to the barn, and then, taking the reins,
fastened the horse to the branch of a young ailanthus tree which
grew near the woodpile. As he watched the figures of the two men
pass along the little path between the fringes of dead yarrow he
drew an uneasy breath and dug his boot into the rotting mould
upon the ground. The barn door opened and closed; there was a
short silence, and then a sudden despairing cry as of a rabbit
caught in the jaws of a hound. When he heard it he turned
impulsively from the horse's head and went quickly along the path
the men had taken. There was no definite intention in his mind,
but as he reached the barn door it shot open and Fletcher put out
a white face.

"The Doctor wants you, Mr. Christopher," he cried; "Will has gone
clean mad!"

Without a word, Christopher pushed by him and went into the great
dusky room, where the boy was struggling like a madman to loosen
the doctor's grasp. He was conscious at the moment that the air
was filled with fine chaff and that he sucked it in when he
breathed.

At his entrance Will lay quiet for a moment and looked at him
with dazed, questioning eyes.

"Keep them out, Christopher!" he cried, in anguish.

Christopher crossed the room and laid his hand with a protecting
gesture on the boy's head.