was to this that I was moving? There might be a new life waiting
for me, but it could not well be as intolerable as this. Perhaps
nothing but silence and unconsciousness awaited me, a sleep
unstirred by any dream. Even Maud, I thought, in her sorrow, would
understand. How long I stood there I do not know, but the air
darkened about me and the mist rose in long veils about the pasture
with a deadly chill. But then there came back a sort of grim
courage into my mind, that not so could it be ended. The thought of
Maud and the children rose before me, and I knew I could not leave
them, unless I were withdrawn from them. I must face it, I must
fight it out; though I could and did pray with all my might that
God might take away my life: I thought with what an utter joy I
should feel the pang, the faintness, of death creep over me there
in the dim pasture; but I knew in my heart that it was not to be;
and soon I went slowly back through the thickening gloom. I found
Maud awaiting me: and I know in that moment that some touch of the
dark conflict I had been through had made itself felt in her mind;
and indeed I think she read something of it in my face, from the
startled glance she turned upon me. Perhaps it would have been
better if in that quiet hour I could have told her the thought
which had been in my mind; but I could not do that; and indeed it
seemed to me as though some unseen light had sprung up for me,
shooting and broadening in the darkness. I apprehended that I was
no longer to suffer, I was to fight. Hitherto I had yielded to my
misery, but the time was come to row against the current, not to
drift with it.

It was dark when we left the little inn; the moon had brightened to
a crescent of pale gold; the last dim orange stain of sunset still
slept above the mist. It seemed to me as though I had somehow