To travel and disappear and not be heard of for many years would be a far more independent stroke, and it would leave her entirely unfettered.
Perhaps he might rival in this kind the accomplished Mr.Bellston, of whose journeyings he had heard so much.
He sat and sat, and the fog rose out of the river, enveloping him like a fleece; first his feet and knees, then his arms and body, and finally submerging his head.

When he had come to a decision he went up again into the homestead.

He would be independent, if he died for it, and he would free Christine.

Exile was the only course.

The first step was to inform his uncle of his determination.
Two days later Nicholas was on the same spot in the mead, at almost the same hour of eve.