That she had walked all those forty miles uphill seemed certain, and apparently the best he could hope was that she was walking back.

She had probably no money to enable her to take the diligence.

Perhaps she had no money with which to buy food.

It might be that while he lay tossing in bed she was somewhere near, dying for want of a franc.
He was off by morning light, and several times that day he heard of her, twice from people who had seen her pass both going and coming, and he knew it must be she when they said she rocked her arms as she walked.

Oh, he knew why she rocked her arms! Once he thought he had found her.