He who had always been free, easy, happy, especially when out alone in the open, had become in a few short hours bound, serious, preoccupied.

The silence that had once been sweet now meant nothing to him except a medium whereby he might the better hear the sounds of pursuit.

The loneliness, the night, the wild, that had always been beautiful to him, now only conveyed a sense of safety for the present.
He watched, he listened, he thought.

He felt tired, yet had no inclination to rest.

He intended to be off by dawn, heading toward the southwest.