which he had revelled all his life--and flung into this inferno of
endless darkness. The iron began to bite into his soul.

The glory of his youth was quenched. From thenceforth he would hear the
music from afar, he would be barred out from the splendour of life, he
would wander along the outside edge of things, forlorn and lonely. His
popularity, his brilliance, his joy of living, had all been crushed to
atoms with that single, sledge-hammer blow of Fate. Better--ten thousand
times better--to have killed him outright! For this thing was infinitely
worse than death.

The iron drove in a little deeper. His spirit, his pride, awoke and
rebelled, raging impotently. He would not bear the burden. He would die
somehow. He would find a means, do what they would to stop him. He would
escape--somehow--from this particular hell. He would not be chained
between life and death. He would burst the bonds. He would be free!

His pulses rose to fever pitch. He started up upon the bed. Now was the
time--now--now! He might not have another chance. And there must be some
means to his hand--some way out of this awful darkness!

The madness of fever urged him. In another moment he would have been on
his feet, at grips with the fate that bound him; but even as he gathered
himself together for the effort, something happened.

The door opened and a woman entered. He heard the swish of her
draperies, and his heart gave a great throb and paused.

"Who is it?" he said, and his voice was harsh and dry even to his own
hearing. "Who is it? Speak to me!"

She spoke, and his heart, released from the sudden check, leaped on at a
pace that nearly suffocated him. "It's I, Noel,--Olga! They said I might
come and see you. You don't mind?"

"Mind!" he said, and suddenly a great sob burst from him. He felt out
towards her with hands that wildly groped. "Let me feel you!" he
entreated. "I--I'll let you go again!"

And then very suddenly her arms were all around him, closing him in,
lifting him out of his hell. "Noel! My own Noel!" she whispered. "My
own, splendid boy!"

He held her fast, his battered head pillowed against her while he fought
for self-control. For many seconds he could not utter a word. And in the
silence the world he knew opened its gates to him again and took him
back. The darkness remained indeed, but it had been lightened. The
horror of it no longer tore his soul. The iron had been withdrawn.

He moved at last, drawing her han