white. The freshness in the air,
the glamour of the moonlight, and the fumes of the port combined to
make him feel strangely rhumantic, and if he had possessed a musical
instrument he would very likely have begun to play on it. He spent some
moments tracking to and fro in the dew before he settled on the centre
of the lawn as the most suitable spot for the act which he contemplated,
for thence he would be able to turn his last looks towards Aurora's
bedroom-window without interference from foliage. Having drawn a
twelve-foot circle in the dew with his toe he proceeded in the bright
moonlight to the necessary accumulation of his funeral pile, conveying
from his study, book by book, journal by journal, pamphlet by pamphlet,
the hoarded treasures of the last four years; and as he carefully placed
each one, building up at once a firm and cunning structure, he gave a
little groan, thinking of the intoxications of the past, and all the
glorious thoughts embodied in that literature. Underneath, in the heart
of the pile, he reserved a space for the most inflammable material,
which he selected from a special file of a special journal, and round
the circumference of the lofty and tapering mound he carefully deposited
the two hundred and four war numbers of a certain weekly, so that a ring
of flame might lick well up the sides and permeate the more solid matter
on which he would be sitting. For two hours he worked in the waning
moonlight till he had completed this weird and heroic erection; and just
before the dawn, sat down by the light of the candle with which he meant
to apply the finishing touch, to compose that interview with himself
whereby he intended to convey to the world the message of his act.
"I found him," he began, in the words of the interviewer, "sitting upon
a journalistic pile of lovely leaves of thought, which in the dawning
of a new day glowed with a certain restrained flamboyance, as though the
passion stored within those exotic pages gave itself willingly to the
'eclaircissement' of the situation, and of his lineaments on which
suffering had already set their stamp.
"'I should like you,' I said, approaching as near as I could, for
the sparks, like little fireflies on a Riviera evening, were playing
profoundly round my trousers, 'I should like to hear from your own lips
the reasons which have caused you to resign.'
"'Certainly,' he replied, with the courtesy which I have always found
characteristic of him
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