no inkling of her presence there so near. With mind intent
and senses all turned inwards, he marched past her like a figure in a
dream, and like a figure in a dream she saw him go. Love, yearning, pity
rose in a storm within her, but as in nightmare she found no words or
movement possible. She sat and watched him go--go from her--go into the
deeper reaches of the green enveloping woods. Desire to save, to bid him
stop and turn, ran in a passion through her being, but there was nothing
she could do. She saw him go away from her, go of his own accord and
willingly beyond her; she saw the branches drop about his steps and hid
him. His figure faded out among the speckled shade and sunlight. The
trees covered him. The tide just took him, all unresisting and content
to go. Upon the bosom of the green soft sea he floated away beyond her
reach of vision. Her eyes could follow him no longer. He was gone.

And then for the first time she realized, even at that distance, that
the look upon his face was one of peace and happiness--rapt, and caught
away in joy, a look of youth. That expression now he never showed to
her. But she _had_ known it. Years ago, in the early days of their
married life, she had seen it on his face. Now it no longer obeyed the
summons of her presence and her love. The woods alone could call it
forth; it answered to the trees; the Forest had taken every part of
him--from her--his very heart and soul.

Her sight that had plunged inwards to the fields of faded memory now
came back to outer things again. She looked about her, and her love,
returning empty-handed and unsatisfied, left her open to the invading of
the bleakest terror she had ever known. That such things could be real
and happen found her helpless utterly. Terror invaded the quietest
corners of her heart, that had never yet known quailing. She could
not--for moments at any rate--reach either her Bible or her God.
Desolate in an empty world of fear she sat with eyes too dry and hot for
tears, yet with a coldness as of ice upon her very flesh. She stared,
unseeing, about her. That horror which stalks in the stillness of the
noonday, when the glare of an artificial sunshine lights up the
motionless trees, moved all about her. In front and behind she was aware
of it. Beyond this stealthy silence, just within the edge of it, the
things of another world were passing. But she could not know them. Her
husband knew them, knew their beauty and their awe, yes,