e he stood by the elm-tree, clutching the ridges of its bark. Even
so would he wrestle tomorrow, and Stephen, imperturbable, reply, "My
body is my own." Or worse still, he might wrestle with a pliant Stephen
who promised him glibly again. While he prayed for a miracle to convert
his brother, it struck him that he must pray for himself. For he, too,
was ruined.

"Why, what's the matter?" asked Leighton. "Stephen's only being with
friends. Mr. Elliot, sir, don't break down. Nothing's happened bad. No
one's died yet, or even hurt themselves." Ever kind, he took hold of
Rickie's arm, and, pitying such a nervous fellow, set out with him for
home. The shoulders of Orion rose behind them over the topmost boughs of
the elm. From the bridge the whole constellation was visible, and Rickie
said, "May God receive me and pardon me for trusting the earth."

"But, Mr. Elliot, what have you done that's wrong?"

"Gone bankrupt, Leighton, for the second time. Pretended again that
people were real. May God have mercy on me!"

Leighton dropped his arm. Though he did not understand, a chill of
disgust passed over him, and he said, "I will go back to The Antelope. I
will help them put Stephen to bed."

"Do. I will wait for you here." Then he leant against the parapet and
prayed passionately, for he knew that the conventions would claim him
soon. God was beyond them, but ah, how far beyond, and to be reached
after what degradation! At the end of this childish detour his wife
awaited him, not less surely because she was only his wife in name. He
was too weak. Books and friends were not enough. Little by little she
would claim him and corrupt him and make him what he had been; and the
woman he loved would die out, in drunkenness, in debauchery, and her
strength would be dissipated by a man, her beauty defiled in a man. She
would not continue. That mystic rose and the face it illumined meant
nothing. The stream--he was above it now--meant nothing, though it
burst from the pure turf and ran for ever to the sea. The bather, the
shoulders of Orion-they all meant nothing, and were going nowhere. The
whole affair was a ridiculous dream.

Leighton returned, saying, "Haven't you seen Stephen? They say he
followed us: he can still walk: I told you he wasn't so bad."

"I don't think he passed me. Ought one to look?" He wandered a little
along the Roman road. Again nothing mattered. At the level-crossing he
leant on the gate to watch a slow goods t