John Galsworthy

“ With an encumbered estate and some of the best coverts in that northern county, it had not become practical politics to sell his timber till the Government wanted it at any price. To let his shooting had been more profitable, till now a patriotic action and a stroke of business had become synonymous. A man of sixty-five, but not yet gray, with a reddish tinge in his mustache, cheeks, lips and eyelids, slightly knock-kneed, and with large, rather spreading feet, he moved in the best circles in a somewhat embarrassed manner. ”

“ He struck matches, trying to shade them with his cold, wet hands, but one by one they went out, and still he found no turning. The ride must have a blind alley at either end; the turning must be down the side somewhere! Hope revived in him. Never say die!
HE began a second retracing of his steps, feeling the trunks along one side, to find a gap. His breath came with difficulty. What would old Brodley say if he could see him, soaked, sweating, frozen, tired to death, stumbling along in the darkness among this cursed timber—old Brodley who had told him his heart was in poor case! A gap? Ah! ”

“ He stumbled quickly on in and out of them among the undergrowth without coming to a ride.
“Here I am stuck in this damned wood!” he thought. To call these formidably encircling shapes “a wood” gave him relief. After all, it was his wood, and nothing very untoward could happen to a man in his own wood, however dark it might get; he could not be more than a mile and a half at the outside from his dining-room! He looked at his watch, whose hands he could just see—nearly half-past seven! The sleet had become snow, but it hardly fell on him, so thick was the timber just here. ”

“ He walked thinking, with a gentle melancholy slowly turning a little sulky, that he would never again be pointing out with his shooting-stick to such or such a guest where he was to stand to get the best birds over him. ”

“ There must be a regular blizzard blowing now, and, to judge by the cold, from the north—but whether northeast or northwest was the question. Besides, how keep definite direction without a compass in the dark?
THE timber, too, with its trunks, diverted the wind into keen, directionless drafts. He looked up, but could make nothing of the two or three stars that he could see. It was a mess! And he lighted a second cigar with some difficulty, for he had begun to shiver. ”

“ If only he could wind his heart! And squatting there he counted his matches—four! “Well,” he thought grimly, “I won't light them to show me my blasted trees. I've got a cigar left; I'll keep them for that.” And he crawled on again. He must keep going while he could!
He crawled till his heart and lungs and knee struck work; and, leaning his back against a tree, sat huddled together, so exhausted that he felt nothing save a sort of bitter heartache. ”

“ The thought that seeds, tiny seeds or saplings, planted by his ancestors, could attain huge impending and imprisoning bulk—ghostly great growths mounting up to heaven and shutting off this world—exasperated and unnerved him. ”

“ There was a lot of beech here—a bit he did not know, for though taken in by the beaters, no guns could be stationed there because of the lack of undergrowth. The jay had vanished, and light had begun to fail. “I must get back,” he thought, “or I shall be late for dinner.” He debated for a moment whether to retrace his steps or to cut across the beeches and regain the home covert by a loop. The jay, reappearing to the left, decided him to cross the beech grove. He did so, and took a narrow ride up through a dark bit of mixed timber with heavy undergrowth. ”