He wheeled round again toward the centre of the room, impatiently casting about him for something to eat.  The tin box, from which he had devoured all the biscuits, lay empty on the floor, but he picked it up and ate hungrily the few crumbs sticking in its corners.  He ransacked the small dark room in the hope of finding more, but vainly.  As far as he could see, the cabin had never been used for the purpose it was meant to serve, nor ever occupied for more than a few hours at a time.  It had probably been built in a caprice that had passed with its completion.  He guessed something from the fact that there was no visible attempt to sketch the scene before the door, though the site had evidently been chosen for its beauty.

He had nothing by which to measure time, but he knew that precious hours which he might have utilized for escape were passing.  He began to chafe at the delay.  With the impulse of youth to be active, he longed to be out, where he could at least use his feet.  His clothes had dried upon him; in spite of his hunger he was refreshed by his night’s sleep; he was convinced that, once in the open, he could elude capture.  He pulled back the curtain again in order to reconnoitre.  It was well to be as familiar as possible with the immediate lay of the land, so as to avail himself of any advantages it might offer.

The colors of sunrise had disappeared, and he judged that it must be seven or eight o’clock.  Between the rifts of the lower hills the lake was flashing silver, while where Vermont had been nothing but a mass of shadow, blue-green mountains were emerging in a triple row, from which the last veils of vapor were being dragged up into the firmament On the left, the Adirondacks were receding into translucent dimness, in a lilac haze of heat.

With an effort to get back the woodcraft suddenly inspired by his first dash for freedom, he ran his eye over the landscape, noting the points with which he was familiar.  To the west, in a niche between Graytop and the double peak of Windy Mountain, he could place the county-town; to the north, beyond the pretty headlands and the shining coves, the prison of Plattsville was waiting to receive him.  Farther to the north was Canada; and to the south the great waterway led toward the populous mazes of New York.

With an impatience bordering on nervousness he realized that these general facts did not help him.  He must avoid the prison and the county-town, of course; while both New York and Canada offered him ultimate chances.  But his most pressing dangers lurked in the immediate foreground; and there he could see nothing but an unsuggestive slope of ash and pine.  The rapidity of instinct by which last night he had known exactly what to do gave place this morning to his slower and more characteristic mental processes.

He was still gazing outward in perplexity, when, through the trees beyond the grassy ledge, he caught the flicker of something white.  He pressed closer to the pane for a better view, and a few seconds later a girl, whom he recognized as the nymph of last night, came out of the forest, followed by a fawn-colored collie.  She walked smoothly and swiftly, carrying a large basket with her right hand, while with her left she motioned him away from the window.  He stepped back, leaping to the door as she unlocked it, in order to relieve her of her burden.