and
struggling himself loose from the two comrades who had fallen asleep upon
him and almost succeeded in smothering him, he gave a hoarse yell and got
to his feet.

They cursed and laughed at him, and snuggled down good naturedly to their
broken slumbers again, but Cameron stood in his corner, glaring out the
tiny crack into the dark starless night that was whirling by, startled
into thoughtfulness. The dream had been so vivid that he could not easily
get rid of it. His heart was boiling hot with rage at his old enemy, yet
something stronger was there, too, a great horror at himself. He had been
about to kill a fellow creature! To what pass had he come!

And somewhere out in that black wet night, a sweet white face gleamed,
with brown hair blown about it, and the mist of the storm in its locks.
It was as if her spirit had followed him and been present in that dream
to shame him. Supposing the dream had been true, and he had actually
killed Wainwright! For he knew by the wild beating of his heart, by the
hotness of his wrath as he came awake, that nothing would have stayed his
hand if he had been placed in such a situation.

It was _like_ a dream to hover over a poor worn tempest-tossed soul in
that way and make itself verity; demand that he should live it out again
and again and face the future that would have followed such a set of
circumstances. He had to see Ruth's sad, stern face, the sorrowful eyes
full of tears, the reproach, the disappointment, the alien lifting of her
chin. He knew her so well; could so easily conjecture what her whole
attitude would be, he thought. And then he must needs go on to think out
once more just what relation there might be between his enemy and the
girl he loved--think it out more carefully than he had ever let himself
do before. All he knew about the two, how their home grounds adjoined,
how their social set and standing and wealth was the same, how they had
often been seen together; how Wainwright had boasted!

All night he stood and thought it out, glowering between the cracks of
the car at the passing whirl, differentiating through the blackness now
and then a group of trees or buildings or a quick flash of furtive light,
but mainly darkness and monotony. It was as if he were tied to the tail
of a comet that dashed hellwards for a billion years, so long the night
extended till the dull gray dawn. There was no God anywhere in that dark
night. He had forgotten about Him entirel