fe prove to
you the innocence of my past? I will not hasten anything; all I ask is
some indulgence. Time will do the rest."

"Impossible," she murmured.

But that was a word for which he had no ear. He saw that she was moved,
unexpectedly so; that while her eyes wandered restlessly at times
towards the door, they ever came back in girlish wonder, if not
fascination, to his face, emboldening him so that he ventured at last,
to add:

"Doris, little Doris, I will teach you a marvellous lesson, if you will
only turn your dainty ear my way. Love such as mine carries infinite
treasure with it. Will you have that treasure heaped, piled before
your feet? Your lips say no, but your eyes--the truest eyes I ever
saw--whisper a different language. The day will come when you will find
your joy in the breast of him you are now afraid to trust." And not
waiting for disclaimer or even a glance of reproach from the eyes he had
so wilfully misread, he withdrew with a movement as abrupt as that with
which he had entered.

Why, then, with the memory of this exultant hour to fend off all
shadows, did the midnight find him in his solitary hangar in the moonlit
woods, a deeply desponding figure again. Beside him, swung the huge
machine which represented a life of power and luxury; but he no longer
saw it. It called to him with many a creak and quiet snap,--sounds to
start his blood and fire his eye a week--nay, a day ago. But he was deaf
to this music now; the call went unheeded; the future had no further
meaning, for him, nor did he know or think whether he sat in light or in
darkness; whether the woods were silent about him, or panting with life
and sound. His demon had gripped him again and the final battle was on.
There would never be another. Mighty as he felt himself to be, there
were limits even to his capacity for endurance. He could sustain no
further conflict. How then would it end? He never had a doubt himself!
Yet he sat there.

Around him in the forest, the night owls screeched and innumerable small
things without a name, skurried from lair to lair.

He heard them not.

Above, the moon rode, flecking the deepest shadows with the silver from
her half-turned urn, but none of the soft and healing drops fell upon
him. Nature was no longer a goddess, but an avenger; light a revealer,
not a solace. Darkness the only boon.

Nor had time a meaning. From early eve to early morn he sat there and
knew not if it were one hour or t