E-text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan,
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CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX
CHAPTER XXXI
CHAPTER XXXII
CHAPTER XXXIII
CHAPTER XXXIV
CHAPTER XXXV
CHAPTER XXXVI
CHAPTER XXXVII
CHAPTER XXXVIII
CHAPTER XXXIX
In the dusk of a spring evening, Helen Caniper walked on the long roadfrom the town. Making nothing of the laden basket she carried, she wentquickly until she drew level with the high fir-wood which stood like abarrier against any encroachment on the moor, then she looked back andsaw lights darting out to mark the streets she had left behind, asthough a fairy hand illuminated a giant Christmas-tree.
Among the other trees, black and mysterious on the hill, a cold wind wasmoa