Down in the valley a mist like a white feather rose gently into a white cloud, and obscured everything.

She wished she might carry the wall of white with her to shield her.

She had longed for the dawn; and now, as it came with sudden light and clear revealing of the things about her, it was almost worse than night, so dreadful were the dangers when clearly seen, so dangerous the chasms, so angry the mountain torrents.
With the dawn came the new terror of being followed.

The man would have no fear to come to her in the morning, for murdered men were not supposed to haunt their homes after the sun was up, and murderers were always courageous in the day.

He might the sooner come, and find her gone, and perhaps follow; for she felt that he was not one easily to give up an object he coveted, and she had seen in his evil face that which made her fear unspeakably.
As the day grew clearer, she began to study the surroundings.