Soon after the procession had passed, a violent thunderstorm came up.  Everybody ran for cover, and Hoek Matts, too, thought of doing the same; then he changed his mind.  He dared not leave off working.

At noon his daughter came to the door and called to him to come to dinner.  Hoek Matts was not very hungry; still, he felt that he might need a bite to eat.  He did not go in, however, for he was afraid to stop his work.

His wife had gone with Gabriel to the railway station.  On her return, late in the evening, she stopped to tell her husband that now their son had gone, but he would not leave off an instant to hear what she had to say.

The neighbours noticed how Hoek Matts worked that day.  They came out to watch him, and after looking on a while, they went in and reported that he was still there, that he had been at it the whole day without a break.

Evening came, but the light lingered a while, and Hoek Matts kept right on working.  He felt that if he were to leave off while still able to drag a foot, his grief would overpower him.

By and by his wife came back again, and stood watching him.  The grove was now almost clear of stones, and the hedge quite high enough, but still the little old man went on lugging stones that were more fit for a giant to handle.  Now and then a neighbour would come over to see if he was still at it; but no one spoke to him.

Then darkness fell.  They could no longer see him, but they could hear him—­could hear the dull thud of stone against stone as he went on building the wall.

Then at last as he raised the crowbar it slipped from his hands, and when he stooped to pick it up he fell; and before he could think, he was asleep.

Some time afterward he roused himself sufficiently to get to the house.  He said nothing, he did not even attempt to undress, but simply threw himself down on a wooden bench and dropped off to sleep.

***

The Jerusalem-farers had at last reached the railway station which was newly built in a big clearing in the middle of the forest.  There was no town, nor were there any fields or gardens, but everything had been planned on a grand scale in the expectation that an important railway community would some day spring up in this wilderness.

Round the station itself the ground was levelled; there was a broad stone platform, with roomy baggage sheds and no end of gravel drives.  A couple of stores and workshops, a photographic studio, and a hotel had already been put up around the gravelled square, but the remainder of the clearing was nothing but unbroken stubble land.

The Dal River also flowed past here.  It came with a wild and angry rush from the dark woods, and dashed foamingly onward in a cascade of falls.  The Jerusalem-farers could hardly credit that this was a part of the broad, majestic river they had crossed in the morning.  Here no smiling valley met their gaze; on all sides the view was obstructed by dark fir-clad heights.