For a couple of hours he doggedly haunted the place, loth to leave it while a chance remained.

Then he gave it up, and started once more up the steep slope.
He looked at his watch by the light of a match.

It was eleven o'clock.
He shuddered, but not with the cold, and went on.
Something--who could say what ?--told him that fee must go higher yet.
Once last year, in company with Wisdom, he had been as far as the upper bog, and had wanted to go to the top.

But Wisdom had dissuaded him.
Now, even in the darkness the ground seemed familiar, and he tramped on up the swampy steep till presently he found himself near the sound of rushing water at the foot of the great ravine.
The stream had grown so strong since the afternoon that to shout against it was more hopeless than ever.

Yet Rollitt shouted.