a great weight were on his chest.

"Elaine," he cried, "won't you open the door to me?"

The sobbing was broken by a tremulous voice.

"Is that you, Peter Donaldson?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Then go away and leave me, Peter Donaldson."

"Elaine, can you hear me clearly?"

There was the pause of a moment, and than the broken voice.

"Go away."

"No," he answered steadily, "I can't. I can't go away again until I
see you. You must tell me face to face to go. I 've come back to you."

She did not answer.

"Elaine," he cried, "open the door to me. Let me see you."

"I don't want to see you."

He waited a moment. Then he said more soberly,

"Elaine, I can't go away. I must stay right here until I see you. I
sha'n't move from here until my soul goes. Whether you hear me or not,
you will know that I am right here by the door. At the end of one
hour, at the end of two hours, at the end of a day, I shall still be
here. If they try to drag me away, they 'll have to fight--they 'll
have to fight hard."

There was no answer. He leaned back against the wall. Below, he heard
a whispered conversation between Arsdale and the nurse; within, he
heard nothing. So five minutes passed, and to Donaldson the world was
chaos. He felt as though he were locked up in a tomb. There was the
same feeling of dead weight upon the shoulders; the same sensation of
stifling. Then he heard her voice,

"Are you still there, Peter Donaldson?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Won't you please go away?"

"I shall not go away until I have seen you."

Then another long suspense began, but it was shorter than the first.

"If I let you come in for a minute, will you go then?"

"Yes," he answered, "I will go then."

It seemed an eternity before he heard the key turn in the lock and saw
the door swing open a little. He stepped in. She had taken a position
in a far corner. She had drawn the Japanese shawl tightly about her,
and was standing very erect, her white face like chiseled marble. He
started towards her, but she checked him.

"Do not come any nearer," she commanded.

He steadied himself.

"I told you," he began abruptly, "that I was going because I must.
That was true; I went thinking I was to meet Death."

She took a step towards him.

"You were ill? You are ill now?"

"No."

He paused. Now that the time had come when he could tell her all, it
was a harder thing to do than he had thought. If she withdrew from him