Then the plain became more open, and he knew that there was nothing but the night and the snow to shut out his vision ahead.

Still he had no motive, no reason for what he did.

The snow would cover his tracks before morning.

There would be no harm done, and he might get a glimpse of the light, of _her_ light.
It came on his vision with a suddenness that set his heart leaping.

A dog barked ahead of him, so near that he stopped in his tracks, and then suddenly there shot through the snow-gloom the bright gleam of a lamp.
Before he had taken another breath he was aware of what had happened.