His course was fixed.

He could not miss the mournful wood hanging there like a pall on the horizon.
His feet struck against something.

It was a man, but he was past all feeling, and Dick went on, striking by and by against many more.

It was impossible at the moment to see Warner's face, but he began to feel of the figures with his hands.

There was none so long and slender as Warner's, and he continued his search, moving steadily toward the wood.
He saw presently a lantern moving over the field, and he walked toward it.