Reaching the other shore, Alfgar finds smooth meadows all covered with snow. He knows his way now. A little higher up he strikes the main road which leads to Clifton, and rushes on past field and grove, past hedgerow and forest. Behind him the heavens are growing angry with lurid light, before him the earth lies in stillness and silence; the moonbeams slumbering on placid river, glittering on frozen pool, or silvering happy homesteads--happy hitherto. He sees the lights in the hall of Herstan yet burning, and casting their reflection abroad. He is at the foot of the ascent leading up to it. One minute more and--