Simeon Stagg had followed the three men closely enough to keep them in view, and yet had kept far enough away to escape identification.
Ascending the Bleaberry Fell, he had descended into Watendlath, and crossed under the "Bowder" stone as the men passed the village of Rosthwaite.

He had lost sight of them for a while as they went up towards Honister, but when he had gained the breast of Grey Knotts he could clearly descry them two miles away ascending the Scarf Gap.

If he could but pass Brandreth before they reached the foot of the Black Sail he would have no fear of being seen, and, what was of more consequence, he would have no doubt of being at Stye Head before them.
He could then get in between the Kirk Fell and the Great Gable long before they could round the Wastdale Head and return to the pass.
But how weak he felt! How jaded these few miles had made him! Sim remembered that he had eaten little for three days.

Would his strength outlast the task before him?
It should; it must do so.

Injured by tyranny, the affections of this worn-out outcast among men had, like wind-tossed trees, wound their roots about a rock from which no tempest could tear them.
Sim's step sometimes quickened to a run and sometimes dropped to a labored slouch.