ht with his fists than to kill himself? Or
again, is it easier for him to die than to endure a prolonged cross-fire
of women's wrath and scorn? This I know: that in the life of even the
least and meanest of us there is somewhere one fine moment--one high
chance not missed. I like to think it was by operation of this law that
Noaks had now clambered out upon the window-sill, silencing, sickening,
scattering like chaff the women beneath him.

He was already not there when Clarence bounded into the room. "Come on!"
yelled the boy, first thrusting his head behind the door, then diving
beneath the table, then plucking aside either window-curtain, vowing
vengeance.

Vengeance was not his. Down on the road without, not yet looked at but
by the steadfast eyes of the Emperors, the last of the undergraduates
lay dead; and fleet-footed Zuleika, with her fingers still pressed to
her ears, had taken full toll now.

XXIII

Twisting and turning in her flight, with wild eyes that fearfully
retained the image of that small man gathering himself to spring,
Zuleika found herself suddenly where she could no further go.

She was in that grim ravine by which you approach New College. At sight
of the great shut gate before her, she halted, and swerved to the wall.
She set her brow and the palms of her hands against the cold stones. She
threw back her head, and beat the stones with her fists.

It was not only what she had seen, it was what she had barely saved
herself from seeing, and what she had not quite saved herself from
hearing, that she strove so piteously to forget. She was sorrier for
herself, angrier, than she had been last night when the Duke laid hands
on her. Why should every day have a horrible ending? Last night she
had avenged herself. To-night's outrage was all the more foul and mean
because of its certain immunity. And the fact that she had in some
measure brought it on herself did but whip her rage. What a fool she
had been to taunt the man! Yet no, how could she have foreseen that he
would--do THAT? How could she have guessed that he, who had not dared
seemly death for her in the gentle river, would dare--THAT?

She shuddered the more as she now remembered that this very day, in that
very house, she had invited for her very self a similar fate. What if
the Duke had taken her word? Strange! she wouldn't have flinched then.
She had felt no horror at the notion of such a death. And thus she now
saw Noaks' conduct