brilliantly. And when at last he lay down on the hard earth,
sleep struck him senseless like a hammer.

Indeed, he needed the strongest sleep he could get; for the earth
was still full of darkness and a kind of morning fog when his
fellow-fugitive shook him awake.

"No more sleep, I'm afraid," said Evan, in a heavy, almost
submissive, voice of apology. "They've gone on past us right
enough for a good thirty miles; but now they've found out their
mistake, and they're coming back."

"Are you sure?" said Turnbull, sitting up and rubbing his red
eyebrows with his hand.

The next moment, however, he had jumped up alive and leaping like
a man struck with a shock of cold water, and he was plunging
after MacIan along the woodland path. The shape of their old
friend the constable had appeared against the pearl and pink of
the sunrise. Somehow, it always looked a very funny shape when
seen against the sunrise.

* * *

A wash of weary daylight was breaking over the country-side, and
the fields and roads were full of white mist--the kind of white
mist that clings in corners like cotton wool. The empty road,
along which the chase had taken its turn, was overshadowed on one
side by a very high discoloured wall, stained, and streaked
green, as with seaweed--evidently the high-shouldered sentinel of