I was painfully aware that Miss Forrest must think I was acting strangely and discourteously, and once or twice I essayed to go back to her, but I could not I was drawn on and on, always away from the house.
At length I entered a fir wood, and I began to feel more my real self.

I saw the dark pines, from whose prickly foliage the snow crystals were falling; I realized a stern beauty in the scene; but I had not time to think about it.

I felt I was near the end of my journey, and I began to wonder at my condition.

I had not gone far into the wood before I stopped and looked around me.

The influence had gone, and I was free; but from behind one of the trees stepped out a man, and the man was--Herod Voltaire! "Good-morning, Mr.Justin Blake," he said blandly.
"Why have you brought me here ?" I asked savagely.
He smiled blandly.