nating it
became. Once the mere horror of such a conception as catching a comely
parishioner about the waist and kissing her, when she had come to him
with a case of conscience, had so confused him in her presence as to
make him answer her wildly, not because he was really tempted to the
wickedness, but because he realized so vividly the hideousness of the
impossible temptation. In some such sort he now trembled before old
Hilbrook, thinking how dreadful it would be if he were suddenly to begin
undoing the work of faith in him, and putting back in its place the
doubts which he had uprooted before. In a swift series of dramatic
representations he figured the old man's helpless amaze at the
demoniacal gayety with which he should mock his own seriousness in the
past, the cynical ease with which he should show the vanity of the hopes
he had been so fervent in awakening. He had throughout recognized the
claim that all the counter-doubts had upon the reason, and he saw how
effective he could make these if he were now to become their advocate.
He pictured the despair in which he could send his proselyte tottering
home to his lonely house through the dark.

He rent himself from the spell, but the last picture remained so real
with him that he went to the window and looked out, saying, "Is there a
moon?"

"It ain't up yet, I guess," said old Hilbrook, and from something in his
manner, rather than from anything he recollected of their talk, Ewbert
fancied him to have asked a question, and to be now waiting for some
answer. He had not the least notion what the question could have been,
and he began to walk up and down, trying to think of something to say,
but feeling his legs weak under him and the sweat cold on his forehead.
All the time he was aware of Hilbrook following him with an air of
cheerful interest, and patiently waiting till he should take up the
thread of their discourse again.

He controlled himself at last, and sank into his chair. "Where were we?"
he asked. "I had gone off on a train of associations, and I don't just
recall our last point."

Hilbrook stated it, and Ewbert said, "Oh, yes," as if he recognized it,
and went on from it upon the line of thought which it suggested. He was
aware of talking rationally and forcibly; but in the subjective
undercurrent paralleling his objective thought he was holding discourse
with himself to an effect wholly different from that produced in
Hilbrook.

"Well, sir," said