Straight, straight to its home, to its mate!

All the night seemed to break out and sing. All the world yearned one
way; the stars leaned out of their courses and looked, not at him,
but south; the north wind went by him, crooning, hurrying, and the
moon sailed southward past the ragged clouds. All his soul went out
with them, and his body sickened to follow.

He came home and changed his dress. It was late. He lighted no lamp;
the ghostly moonlight streamed through the window, and a figure as
still and ghost-like stood at the door.

"Lawrence! Lawrence!" she called, despairingly. But he did not seem to
hear. He felt no hardness toward her; she had brought him the great
deliverance as well as the grievous bondage. But he could no more heed
her now than turn back if he were drawn by unbridled horses and some
one cried behind. But when at last he came to go out, he almost
stumbled upon her lying across the door. He stooped and picked her up;
she was as cold as stone. She clung about his neck. The tempest had
come; her ship was a wreck, the dark waves tumbling about her and
dashing her with their salt spray. She clung to the strong swimmer she
had flouted when winds were sweet, but was afraid she came too late.

"I could not help it; he deserted me basely. Oh, Lawrence, do not cast
me off!" she implored. "Do not go away. Pity me; I am very miserable.
I should not have done that if you had not forsaken me. No one ever
helped me but you, and I have not been happy, you know I have not. I
do not know what will become of me if you put me away. I won't vex
you any more; before God I will not! You have me at your mercy; will
you not be merciful?"

He laid her on the bed and wrapped her up. He spoke in a deep, solemn
voice:

"Be still. I cannot hear you to-night. I have been merciful. I will
try to do what is right. I am going away now; wait till I come back."

He took the midnight train south. Stella was out of town. He followed
her. He felt that he could not meet her before strangers with
self-control, or go through formalities. He wrote a brief note at the
hotel asking to see her alone. Then he shrank from the thought of
meeting her with detestable things to explain, and he added:

"I should like you to know my altered position before we meet. I
shrink from shocking you by a personal explanation painful to us both.
Forgive me, then, for inclosing papers which will inform you."

The messenger brought back a note whi