I think that, because he who had been wronged hated him who had wronged him with a hate such as does not often burn in a man's brain, unless it be fanned by the memory of a woman's breath.
"Still that is only conjecture, and the point is immaterial.

The man who had done the wrong fled, and the other man followed him.

It became a point-to-point race, the first man having the advantage of a day's start.
The course was the whole world, and the stakes were the first man's life.
"Travellers were few and far between in those days, and this made the trail easy to follow.

The first man, never knowing how far or how near the other was behind him, and hoping now and again that he might have baffled him, would rest for a while.

The second man, knowing always just how far the first one was before him, never paused, and thus each day the man who was spurred by Hate drew nearer to the man who was spurred by Fear.
"At this town the answer to the never-varied question would be:-- "'At seven o'clock last evening, M'sieur.' "'Seven--ah; eighteen hours.