iled a little and moistened his lips.

"You think you did it?" he suggested. "No. You didn't do it. It
comes--of itself--like a thief in the night, like the very devil.
Nobody's to know it. Understand that."

"Then you need her with you!" Osmond broke out, in a fresh
understanding.

"Need her? need Rose? Get that out of your mind. The world is full of
women. She'll go back with me, but not because I need her."

He walked past Osmond and out through the empty hall, and slowly, but
still erect, to the driveway and the road. Osmond stood watching him. He
saw him straighten more and more, and assume his wonted carriage though
without its buoyancy. Osmond followed for a little distance, but when
MacLeod turned to look at him and then went on again, he stepped over
the wall and crossed the lot to his own plantation. MacLeod, he knew,
was going to Electra's for a last word, and for himself, he had struck
his one sharp, quick blow for Rose. She should have an interval alone,
to make her abiding decision calmly, and when the moment came for
MacLeod's going, Osmond would be there again, to hearten her.

But MacLeod, when Osmond had really turned aside, halted more and more.
At last he was sick with fear of that enemy inside his breast. There was
no moment now, he knew, when he might not expect it, tearing away at the
delicate harmonies within the gates of life. What would happen when the
pain grew fiercer still? The enemy would let in that other he refused to
think upon, though even that was more tolerable than having this evil
creature claw at him when men could see him cringe. And as life itself
is death when it is once sapped of power, he threw up his head and
strode on faster. One step with the old vigor and abandon--and there it
was again.

XXVI

Later that same morning, Peter was hurrying along the road, for the
carriage was due and MacLeod had not returned. Peter was not more than
reasonably sorry to lose his chief, because he meant to follow soon. He
had the excited sense of being ready for flight, of great freedom before
him and strength in his wings, and of leaving Osmond and grannie with
regret, yet happily, for something untried and as wonderful as youth. He
ran along the road, hat in hand, in love with the morning breeze, and
Electra met him. She looked wan, he saw, and with an incredulous pang,
he questioned whether she could be moved by their separation. But he was
glad of a definite and hurried que