Horses and cattle in the distance were as insects, and in the great concave sky stars still wan from the intolerant light of their master, the Sun, looked timidly out to see him burn his way down to the under-world.
"Great--but it might have been greater!" added Orlando, gazing intently at the sunset.
Yet, as he spoke, his eyes gazed at something infinitely farther away than the sunset-even to the goal of his desire.

He was thinking that, great as the day had been, with all he had done and seen, it lacked a glimpse of the face he had not seen for a whole month.

The voice, he had not heard it since it softly cried, "Oh, Orlando!" when the Chinaman crashed down the staircase with the tray of cherished porcelain, and had been maltreated by the owner of Tralee.
How many times since then had those words rung in his ears! Louise had never called him by name save that once, and then it was the cry of a soul surprised, the wail of one who felt a heart-break coming on, the approach of merciless Fate.

It was the companionship of trouble; it was the bird, pursued by a hawk, calling across the lonely valley to its mate.

"Oh, Orlando!" He had waked in the morning with the words in his ears to make him face the day with hope and cheerfulness.