It was his sanguine expectations that had drawn Blake into the wilds.
Benson seemed to find the suspense equally trying, but he made no remark, and there was nothing to be learned from Clarke's impassive face.

Harding could only wait with all the fortitude he could muster; but he long remembered that momentous hour.

They were all perfectly still; there was no wind, a heavy gray sky overhung them, and the smoke of the fire went straight up.

The gurgle of running water came softly through the silence.
At last, when Harding felt the tension becoming unendurable, Clarke glanced at his watch and reopened the small bottle.
"We'll try again," he said gravely; and Harding thought he detected anxiety in his tone.
The dose was given; and Harding, feeling the urgent need of action if he were to continue calm, got up and wandered about the muskeg.

Coming back after a while, he looked at Clarke.