.

FATE THAT IMPEDES, FALL BACK.
A few minutes after the coach arrived at Mardale, Robbie was toiling along in the darkness over an unfamiliar road.

That tiresome old headache was coming back to him, and he lifted a handful of snow now and again to cool his aching forehead.
It was a weary, weary tramp, such as only young, strong limbs, and a stout heart could have sustained.

Villages were passed, but they lay as quiet as the people that slumbered in them.

Five hours had gone by before Robbie encountered a living soul.
As daylight dawned the snow ceased to fall, and when Robbie had reached Askham the late sun had risen.