t seemed that all the fiends of hell had risen up to
mock and gibe and torture the quivering soul of him; beneath their
obscene hands his reverent love lay shamed and writhing in the dust.

"Betty!" he whispered, "O my love!" Yet even as he spoke he knew that
the woman he had worshipped was not and never had been; he had clothed
her warm youth and beauty with divinity, had adored and made of her an
ideal and now his dream was done, his ideal shattered and by one who
wore the cold, satyr-like face of Effingham--Effingham who had died
upon his sword-point years ago in Flanders; almost unconsciously his
quivering fingers sought and touched the scar upon his temple. And
now, remembering her voice as he had heard it, thrilling with ineffable
love and tenderness, he alternatively shivered in sick horror and
burned with shame, a shame that crushed him to his knees, to his face.
That it should be Effingham of all men, or one so hatefully like! So
the Major, grovelling there beneath the moon, knew an agony in his
stricken soul, deeper, fiercer than flesh may ever know; and thus,
towards the dawn-hour, Sergeant Zebedee found him.

"Sir--sir," said he, kneeling beside that prostrate form, "God's love,
sir--what's amiss?"

The Major raised himself and stared round about with dazed eyes.

"Ah Zeb," said he, slowly, "I do think I must ha' slept of late and
dreamed, Zeb, a fair sweet dream that later changed to nightmare--but
'twill pass. I've lived awhile i' the paradise of fools!"

"Nay sir, here's spells and witchcraft! 'Tis an ill place and an ill
hour--come your ways wi' me, sir."

"Aye, 'tis witchcraft--spells and enchantments, as 'twere, Zeb, but
'twill pass. Lend me your arm." So saying the Major rose and began to
limp towards the house. But, as they went thus, side by side, he
paused to glance up at the waning moon. "'Tis a fair night, Zeb, I've
never seen a fairer. What o'clock is it?"

"Nigh on to three, your honour."

"So late! How time doth flee a man once youth be gone. We've kept
many a night-watch together ere now, Zeb, but the hours never sped so
fast in those days, we were younger then, Zebedee, so much younger,
d'ye see."

Being come into his study the Major stood beside his desk staring down
at his orderly papers and documents, vacant-eyed.

"You'll come to bed now, sir?" enquired the Sergeant anxiously.

"Nay Zeb, 'tis so late I'll e'en sit and watch the dawn come."

"Why then sir, you'll