d by the back stairs to
the rear door of the hotel, and took the road to the Patriarch's
cottage.

And as he walked in the freshness of the night, the restless turmoil of
his soul that since early afternoon had brought him near to the verge of
madness itself, that had robbed him of sane virility, that a moment
since in his room had suddenly begun to lift from him even as the leaden
clouds in the vault above him now were scattering, breaking, and through
the rifts a moon-glint and the starlight came, passed from him
utterly--and a strange calm, a strange joy, a strange sadness was upon
him--and his brain for the first time in many hours was rational,
keen--and he was master of himself again--and yet master of himself no
more!

He smiled a little at the seeming paradox--smiled a little wistfully. He
was beaten--by the game--he had won. How strange it was that sense of
more than resignation now--a sense that seemed like one of
thankfulness--a sense that bade him fling wide his arms as though
suddenly they had been loosed from bondage and he was free, free as the
God-given air around him.

He could understand Helena, and the Flopper, and Pale Face Harry now.
With them it had come slowly, in a gradual concatenation, a progression,
as it were, that had worked upon them, molding them, changing them day
by day--and he had been too blind to see, or, seeing, had measured the
changes only by a standard as false as all his life had been false. With
him it had come in a crash, unheralded, that had left him a naked,
quivering, stricken thing to know madness, terror and despair, to taste
of emotions that had sickened the soul itself.

On Madison walked--along the road, across the little bridge, into the
wagon track where, under the arched branches, it was utter dark. There
was no one upon the road--he passed no one--saw no one--he was alone.

He had lost Helena--but he understood her now--understood the depth of
remorse that she was living through, the terror and the dread as she
sought escape, the fear of him--yes, it would be fear now where once it
had been love! He had lost Helena--that was the price he had paid--but
he understood her now, and he was going to her to help her if he could,
going to tell her that he, too, was changed--as she was changed.

His hands clenched suddenly. God, the misery, the hopelessness, the
wreck and ruin that lay at his door! And amends--what amends could he
make--it was too late for that! How c