heart at peace. Something comes over me out of the past; something
of what I have dreamed on Sabbath evenings to the sound of the church
organ, of what I forecast when I shed tears over noble books, or talked,
an innocent child, with my mother. There lies my life; I have wandered a
few years, but now I see once more my city of destination.'

'You are to use this money on the Stock Exchange, I think?' remarked the
visitor; 'and there, if I mistake not, you have already lost some
thousands?'

'Ah,' said Markheim, 'but this time I have a sure thing.'

'This time, again, you will lose,' replied the visitor quietly.

'Ah, but I keep back the half!' cried Markheim.

'That also you will lose,' said the other.

The sweat started upon Markheim's brow. 'Well, then, what matter?' he
exclaimed. 'Say it be lost, say I am plunged again in poverty, shall one
part of me, and that the worse, continue until the end to override the
better? Evil and good run strong in me, haling me both ways. I do not
love the one thing, I love all. I can conceive great deeds,
renunciations, martyrdoms; and though I be fallen to such a crime as
murder, pity is no stranger to my thoughts. I pity the poor; who knows
their trials better than myself? I pity and help them; I prize love, I
love honest laughter; there is no good thing nor true thing on earth but
I love it from my heart. And are my vices only to direct my life, and my
virtues to lie without effect, like some passive lumber of the mind? Not
so; good, also, is a spring of acts.'

But the visitant raised his finger. 'For six-and-thirty years that you
have been in this world,' said be, 'through many changes of fortune and
varieties of humour, I have watched you steadily fall. Fifteen years ago
you would have started at a theft. Three years back you would have
blenched at the name of murder. Is there any crime, is there any cruelty
or meanness, from which you still recoil?--five years from now I shall
detect you in the fact! Downward, downward, lies your way; nor can
anything but death avail to stop you.'

'It is true,' Markheim said huskily, 'I have in some degree complied with
evil. But it is so with all: the very saints, in the mere exercise of
living, grow less dainty, and take on the tone of their surroundings.'

'I will propound to you one simple question,' said the other; 'and as you
answer, I shall read to you your moral horoscope. You have grown in many
things more