The human mind,
and will to survive, are not to be underestimated." He shaded his eyes
and looked up, saw the sun already approaching the noon. "Enough of
this. You've got to eat, and then think. I've got to work."
Without further speech, they set out for the cottage. But as Stephen
passed the grave of Michael Scott, he could not help but wonder at the
identity of his worn but indomitable deliverer. And looking back to
the place where Stubb would lie, who but a day before had walked and
breathed, been proud, and stubborn, and afraid like himself, he felt a
cold shudder run through him.
For he, too, had been given a taste of Death.
Twenty-Nine
Michael rode in full daylight toward the sea. It was a little used
road, linking the fishing village of Kroe to the uplands; and if what
Purceville said was true, he was, for the moment, no longer a wanted
man. But he had little choice in any case. Riding against the
sea-winds at night would be the death of him, and plans must be laid
for the twilight after next.
Even so, he could not help feeling apprehensive as he slowed his horse
to a canter, and turned down the single brick street of the town,
overlooking the bay, then the sea beyond.
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