Then he went on; walking with a certain reckless swing, as though, in ignorance of that land toward which he had set his face, he still resolutely turned his back upon that which lay behind.

It was as though, for this man, too, the gala day, with its tinseled bravery and its confetti spirit, was of the past.
A short way down the hill the man stopped again.

This time to stand half turned, with his head in a listening attitude.

The sound of a vehicle approaching from the way whence he had come had reached his ear.
As the noise of wheels and hoofs grew louder a strange expression of mingled uncertainty, determination, and something very like fear came over his face.

He started forward, hesitated, looked back, then turned doubtfully toward the thinly wooded mountain side.