se things passed through my mind while I went on and on,
through water and mud, blindly stumbling, dazed by the sufferings I
endured. I caught my feet in the long grass, fell--and it did not seem
worth while to rise again.

The sun went down, and the dusk came on as I lay there with my hands
twisted in the grass which drooped over me. Then I thought of Rowena,
and I got upon my feet and started in search of her, but soon forgot her
in my thoughts of the life I should live if I did what she wanted of me.
I was in such a daze that I went within a rod of her as she sat on the
stone, without seeing her, though the summer twilight was still a
filtered radiance, when suddenly all went dark before my eyes, and I
fell again. Rowena saw me fall, and came to me.

"Jacob," she cried, as she helped me to my feet, "Jacob, what's the
matter!"

"Rowena," said I, trying to stand alone, "I've made up my mind. I had
other plans--but I'll do what you want me to!"

CHAPTER XVIII

ROWENA'S WAY OUT--THE PRAIRIE FIRE

The collapse of mind and body which I underwent in deciding the question
of marrying Rowena Fewkes or of keeping unstained and pure the great
love of my life, refusing her pitiful plea and passing by on the other
side, leaving her desolate and fordone, is a thing to which I hate to
confess; for it was a weakness. Yet, it was the directing fact of that
turning-point not only in my own life, but in the lives of many
others--of the life of Vandemark Township, of Monterey County, and of
the State of Iowa, to some extent. The excuse for it lies, as I have
said, in the way I am organized; in the bovine dumbness of my life,
bursting forth in a few crises in storms of the deepest bodily and
spiritual tempest. I could not and can not help it. I was weak as a
child, as she clasped me in her arms in gratitude when I told her I
would do as she wanted me to; and would have fallen again if she had not
held me up.

"What's the matter, Jacob?" she said, in sudden fright at my strange
behavior.

"I don't know," I gasped. "I wish I could lay down."

She was mystified. She helped me up the hill, telling me all the time
how she meant to live so as to repay me for all I had promised to do for
her. She was stronger than I, then, and helped me into the house, which
was dark, now, and lighted the lamp; but when she came to me, lying on
the bed, she gave a great scream.

"Jake, Jake!" she cried. "What's the matter! Are you dying, my dar