(He breaks off; climbs stoutly. The storm darkens down. For the first time Dr. Thorne’s face expresses something like alarm. He looks about like a man who would call for help, but is too proud to do so. He speaks.)
This is really growing serious. I wish I could remember those words. Now I think of it, we were on our knees. A most unnatural posture! My mother was a sweet saint,—rest her pure spirit! (It lightens as he says this.)
Voices from beyond (softly chanting).
“And when I’m lost in deep despair
Be thou with me....
Until life’s daylight ended be,
Be thou with me, with me.”
Dr. Thorne (lifts his head to listen). There’s a good musical taste in this country, at all events. That’s something. What were those words? Ah, I have it.
“Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow
Thou shalt be with me.”
It went in some such way. (Repeats perplexedly.)
“Thou shalt be with me?”
(Sadly.) A beautiful superstition.
(The storm comes on heavily, with darkness and lightning. Through the gloom his solitary form can be seen manfully climbing. He exhibits no panic, but his evident bewilderment grows upon him. He mutters.)