The times., 1893-11-10
CHAPTER IL.

night had changed. a light drizzle filled
the air. A red vapor rolled across the
sky, broken in places and giving glimpses
of deeper murkiness beyond. Fog horns
beloved from the river. Freight trains
like dingy serpents crawled past the
western boundary of the college campus
and went kissing into the fog. He paused
irresolute for a moment after the gate
changed behind him, then crossed the
street and entered the college grounds.
An unquiet spirit possessed him as he
strobe along the familiar paths. He was
only a trespasser in this place where
hitherto he had roamed at will, but
whether he was seen or not was of little
consequence. He had escaped from his
quiet room into the wet, massy darkness
to question himself. The vapor that
garbed every tree in ghostly robes, the
light sweep of the wind passing his ear
like woman's sigh, the peace here and
the reminders of life on the river and
market places beyond were all old and
dear to him. They had helped him be-
fore.
1t was not of his rejected play he was
sting left by failure had subsided. In
fancy he saw woman's face-Virginia's
face. 1t seemed to float before him.
sometimes the eyes hidden as with a
veil, sometimes the sweet, proud mouth
He was filled with this new feeling
that in the twinkling of an eye had
rushed over him. Was it love? Love-!
Oh, the ecstasy ringing in the soft VOW
els as he murmured them in tender
semitone!
Hitherto he had written of love, had
believed that he understood it. But to-
night in every fiber he felt the illimita-
BILE, untranslatable difference. He had
been like blind man dwelling on the
beauty of the light he had never seen-a
stay at home describing the marvels of
lands never jourheyed through. His
heart had been sleeping while in his
writings he had prated of passion.
But this sweeping forgetfulness of self
even in bitterly critical moment; this
reaching out to and flooding immersion
in the personality of another; this mad
ness that shook him, trailing its seduc-
tive sweetness over his soul and making
him light headed; this insistent burning
in his blood; this yearning newly born
this was love.
He flung himself into restful position
against tree and looked over at the win
dows where at times Virginia's shadow
touched the shade. His face had grown
haggard; his eyes were alight. Oh, he
loved her! 1t seemed now he had always
loved her.
"To tell her-oh, to tell herl' was his
unuttered cry. "Oh, if had something
to offer worth her taking-not my beg
gar's portion, not the ashes of my dreams.
Virginia-dear, tender, sweet voiced,
strong hearted Virginia, l am not fit to
love YOU"
And now state of feeling beyond ex-
preston or definition assailed him and
held him as in coil. 1t was strange,
subtle, exquisitely sad. The mist and
rain were part Of it, the blustery dark
ness, the troubled breath in the trees, the
longing and indecision in his soul, the
ache of passion, the ambition so limitless
and unavaiiing the dull acquiescence of
the conquered.
How merciless destiny seemed in that
momentl How empty the worldl The
race so long, so firing, ending-even at
the best-in what?
He was stirred to an ecstatic sadness.
Something vital quickened in his con-
sciousness.
The serenity of his fair, untempted
years sank from sight, and he seemed to
look down an illuminated depth into the
very heart of life. Love and death were
there; agony and sin; joy, derision, temp
tation, despair; the curse of the suicide,
the laughter of young girls, the sorrow
that cries in the night. 1t was all so ter
ribly clear. 1t racked him, inundated
him, knitted itself to him.
One after another faces arose, young
and old; hands seemed outstretched. He
heard words that contained the glory and
fire of diamonds, so real they were, so
trenchant. Oh, if he could but write
them as they throngeh into his mind-if
he could tell the Wonderful story that
unfolded itself before him like scroll
upon the darkness-m not some stand
and listen?
IlC bllNtlCNt tHNl lOOhCu
ing from his waking dream as from
trance, and almost startled to find him
self alone.
What was this marvellous change? He
seemed on the threshold Of secret, the
door open to his hand. He was as one
born again under new conditions, with
keener faculties for reasoning and feel
ing. A fire had touched him-a fire of
love. 1t lightened the dark places of his
nature, melted the crust that held the
currents Of knowledge imprisoned, and
he felt stimulated to walk victorious
where before he had stumbled.
He thought of the play that but short
while since had been so dear thing to
him. Crude. false and sterile it seemed
now.
Andyet to venture again-dare he doit?
Even while he questioned he knew he
must. His fingers tingled to grasp pen.
The delight of the artist, the creator,
quivered through him. 1t was tempered
by sickening edge of dread, but still it
was delight.