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t seemed that all the fiends of hell had risen up to mock and gibe and torture the quivering soul of him; beneath their obscene hands his reverent love lay shamed and writhing in the dust. "Betty!" he whispered, "O my love!" Yet even as he spoke he knew that the woman he had worshipped was not and never had been; he had clothed her warm youth and beauty with divinity, had adored and made of her an ideal and now his dream was done, his ideal shattered and by one who wore the cold, satyr-like face of Effingham--Effingham who had died upon his sword-point years ago in Flanders; almost unconsciously his quivering fingers sought and touched the scar upon his temple. And now, remembering her voice as he had heard it, thrilling with ineffable love and tenderness, he alternatively shivered in sick horror and burned with shame, a shame that crushed him to his knees, to his face. That it should be Effingham of all men, or one so hatefully like! So the Major, grovelling there beneath the moon, knew an agony in his stricken soul, deeper, fiercer than flesh may ever know; and thus, towards the dawn-hour, Sergeant Zebedee found him. "Sir--sir," said he, kneeling beside that prostrate form, "God's love, sir--what's amiss?" The Major raised himself and stared round about with dazed eyes. "Ah Zeb," said he, slowly, "I do think I must ha' slept of late and dreamed, Zeb, a fair sweet dream that later changed to nightmare--but 'twill pass. I've lived awhile i' the paradise of fools!" "Nay sir, here's spells and witchcraft! 'Tis an ill place and an ill hour--come your ways wi' me, sir." "Aye, 'tis witchcraft--spells and enchantments, as 'twere, Zeb, but 'twill pass. Lend me your arm." So saying the Major rose and began to limp towards the house. But, as they went thus, side by side, he paused to glance up at the waning moon. "'Tis a fair night, Zeb, I've never seen a fairer. What o'clock is it?" "Nigh on to three, your honour." "So late! How time doth flee a man once youth be gone. We've kept many a night-watch together ere now, Zeb, but the hours never sped so fast in those days, we were younger then, Zebedee, so much younger, d'ye see." Being come into his study the Major stood beside his desk staring down at his orderly papers and documents, vacant-eyed. "You'll come to bed now, sir?" enquired the Sergeant anxiously. "Nay Zeb, 'tis so late I'll e'en sit and watch the dawn come." "Why then sir, you'll
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