"It's the last hope--I'm going to follow it up," said Magnus. "Mother," he added, "you had better go back home."
"I can't--I daren't--and if anything happens I'll never be able to go into the poor girl's room again," said Anna.
Outside, in the fading light, Magnus stood for a moment wiping the flanks of Golden Mane and patting his drooping neck.
"I suppose there isn't another horse left in the town," said the Sheriff, "but you'll kill your splendid pony."
"Then he'll die well," said Magnus.
"Magnus," the Sheriff continued, "I intend to search every house in Reykjavik, and if I succeed to-night I'll expect you to help us in the morning."
"If you don't succeed I'll help you," said Magnus, with a hoarse laugh, and at the next moment he was lost in the darkness.
VI
Thora had done the most natural and therefore the most unexpected thing. Only thinking of getting back to her bed in Government House, and of carrying the child along with her, she had taken the simplest means toward doing so. In order to escape the Sheriff she had left her father's house by the back, and to avoid observation from people in the frequented thoroughfare she had taken the longer and quieter of the two roads home.
This road led her past the lake, but she had no desire to destroy herself. Often before she had longed for death from the depths of her heart, but love for her child conquered all such feelings now. The way was very long, but she did not know that she was tired; the roads were rough, but she did not feel that they were cutting her feet; she was going fast, but she did not realize that she was breathless. She had only one fear--the fear of being overtaken; only one dread--the dread of the child being torn away from her.