Very suddenly Isabel stopped. "He can't have gone this way after all," she said, and turned to her brother with eyes of tragic hopelessness. "Stumpy, Stumpy, what shall I do?"
He drew her hand very gently through his arm. "We will go back, dear," he said.
A low sob escaped her, but she did not weep. "If I only had the strength to go on and on and on!" she said. "I know I should find him some day then."
"You will find him some day," he answered with grave assurance. "But not yet."
They went back to the turn in the road where the sound of the stream rose like fairy music from an unseen glen. The snow lay pure and untrodden under the trees.
Scott paused again, and this time Isabel made no remonstrance. They stood together listening to the rush of the torrent.
"How beautiful this place must be in springtime!" he said.
She gave a sharp shiver. "It is like a dead world now."
"A world that will very soon rise again," he answered.
She looked at him with vague eyes. "You are always talking of the resurrection," she said.
"When I am with you, I am often thinking of it," he said with simplicity.
A haunted look came into her face. "But that implies--death," she said, her voice very low.
"And what is Death?" said Scott gently, as if he reasoned with a child. "Do you think it is more than a step further into Life? The passing of a boundary, that is all."
"But there is no returning!" she protested piteously. "It must be more than that."
"My dear, there is never any returning," he said gravely. "None of us can go backwards. Yesterday is but a step away, but can we retrace that step? No, not one of us."
She made a sudden, almost fierce gesture. "Oh, to go back!" she cried. "Oh, to go back! Why should we be forced blindly forward when we only want to go back?"
"That is the universal law," said Scott. "That is God's Will."
"It is cruel! It is cruel!" she wailed.
"No, it is merciful. So long as there is Death in the world we must go on. We have got to get past Death."
She turned her tragic eyes upon him. "And what then? What then?"