To a mind logically disposed, there was nothing but trouble in sight, whether he succeeded or failed in his present mission.

In the former case, he would find himself in a hostile position as regarded the man he most desired to conciliate; in the latter, he would remain the mere rolling stone that he was before, and love itself would forbid him to ask the woman he loved to share his uncertain existence.

But Freeman was not logical: he was happy, and he could not help it.

He had kissed Miriam, and she loved him.
His course lay a few degrees north of east.

Far across the plain, dancing and turning somersaults in the fantastic atmosphere, were the summits of a range of abrupt hills, the borders of a valley or ravine which he wished to explore.