Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (186 page)

So
these
two,
having
got
into
my
imagination,
could
not
be
let
out again,
until
it
was
satisfied
that
all
which
could
be
done
was
done, and
a
moral
as
well
as
a
logical
end
arrived
at.

I
took
to
horse,
therefore,
and
set
out
for
home.

7$»>

Apart
from
my
adventure
with
those
people
my
memory
is
blurred. My
dealings
and
encounters
with
them
arc
distinct
as
though
they happened
to-day;
but
the
portions
of
the
narrative
interspacing
that adventure
have
already
more
than
half
faded
from
memory.
Yet
it seems
to
me
that
my
journey
back
was
a
long
one,
and
that
ships
had to
be
taken
as
well
as
horses
ere
I
had
returned
and
could
recognise landmarks
and
faces.

In
many
of
these
recognitions
the
passage
of
time
was
marked
for me
as
tho'
it
had
been
written.

Here
was
a
dwelling
which
had
not
before
been
here:
and
in
this place,
where
a
house
had
been,
there
was
a
roofless
ruin.

Here
a
man
tended
his
sheep.
When
I
passed
the
last
time
he
had not
been
old;
but
his
beard
had
whitened
as
though
in
one
night
of snow.

I
passed
youths
and
girls
who
knew
me
and
stood
aside;
but
they had
changed
from
the
children
I
might
have
remembered
into
lusty and
lengthy
and
unknown
people.

The
word
that
I
was
coming
must
have
far
preceded
me,
for
these people
recognised
me
with
curiosity
but
without
astonishment;
and in
my
own
house
I
was
clearly
expected
and
welcomed
with
all
the preparedness
a
master
might
hope
for.

I
had
not
hoped
for
any
welcome,
and
would
have
preferred
to come
back
as
anonymously
as
a
bird
does
who
returns
to
its
last
year's hedge;
for,
although
I
did
not
wish
to
escape
anything
that
might
be in
keeping
for
me,
I
did
desire
to
inform
myself
of
the
circumstances by
which
I
should
be
surrounded,
and
the
dangers
that
I
might
have to
front.

There
was
no
hint
of
danger
or
disquietude
among
my
people. Their
welcome
was
as
free,
their
service
as
easy
and
accustomed
as though
I
had
returned
from
a
visit
to
the
next
town.
And
the
marvel of
this
almost
stupefied
me;
while
the
impossibility
of
demanding direct
information
from
those
unsuspicious
people
plunged
me
in dismay.

I
thought
to
myself—"The
bodies
have
never
been
found,
and,
by some
extraordinary
chance,
suspicion
has
not
turned
upon
me
for their
disappearance."

At
the
thought
a
weight
was
lifted
from
my
soul;
but
only
for
a moment;
for
I
had
not
come
back
in
search
of
security,
but
in
order that
whatever
debt
was
due
by
me
should
be
paid.