No one
glanced away from him.

His telling of his story was almost monotonous in its semi-reflective
quietness of tone. The strangeness to himself--though it was a
strangeness he accepted absolutely without protest--lay in his telling
it at all, and in a sense of his knowledge that each of these creatures
would understand and mysteriously know what depths he had touched this
day.

"Just before I left my lodgings this morning," he said, "I found myself
standing in the middle of my room and speaking to Something aloud. I
did not know I was going to speak. I did not know what I was speaking
to. I heard my own voice cry out in agony, 'Lord, Lord, what shall I do
to be saved?'"

The curate made a sudden movement in his place and his sallow young
face flushed. But he said nothing.

Glad's small and sharp countenance became curious.

"'Speak, Lord, thy servant 'eareth,'" she quoted tentatively.

"No," answered Dart; "it was not like that. I had never thought of such
things. I believed nothing. I was going out to buy a pistol and when I
returned intended to blow my brains out."

"Why?" asked Glad, with passionately intent eyes; "why?"

"Because I was worn out and done for, and all the world seemed worn out
and done for. And among other things I believed I was beginning slowly
to go mad."

From the thief there burst forth a low groan and he turned his face to
the wall.

"I've been there," he said; "I 'm near there now."

Dart took up speech again.

"There was no answer--none. As I stood waiting--God knows for what--the
dead stillness of the room was like the dead stillness of the grave. And
I went out saying to my soul, 'This is what happens to the fool who
cries aloud in his pain.'"

"I've cried aloud," said the thief, "and sometimes it seemed as if an
answer was coming--but I always knew it never would!" in a tortured
voice.

"'T ain't fair to arst that wye," Glad put in with shrewd logic.

"Miss Montaubyn she allers knows it WILL come--an' it does."

"Something--not myself--turned my feet toward this place," said Dart. "I
was thrust from one thing to another. I was forced to see and hear
things close at hand. It has been as if I was under a spell. The woman
in the room below--the woman lying dead!" He stopped a second, and then
went on: "There is too much that is crying out aloud. A man such as I
am--it has FORCED itself upon me--cannot leave such things and give
himself to the dust. I ca