rt beating against his, the warmth of her
breath as it brushed his bare throat, the perfume of her hair--those
things were enough now. After the last long weeks of doubt, after the
last day of gruelling fear, after the terror of the last half hour,
such things as these were soul-satisfying. So he allowed himself to
stand a few minutes there in this dark cell which to him had become
suddenly fairer than any garden. Then he spoke softly to her:

"Come," he said, "we will go out into the sunshine now."

She raised her head, looking at him through half-closed eyes.

"I--I don't want to move, David."

He unclasped the hands from about his neck and, placing an arm about
her waist, led her slowly out into the corridor. She followed his
guidance, resting her weight upon him. And he who had come into this
foul place in terror and despair walked out in a dizzy bewilderment of
joy. As he passed the open door of Sorez' cell he hesitated. The evil
prompting of his heart was to pass by this man--so to let him go
forever out of his life. He had but to move on. He could find a refuge
for the girl where she would be safe from this influence, but this
would not be possible if he stopped to take Sorez with them. Once the
girl knew the man was alive and in this condition her sympathies would
be so aroused that she would never desert him. Wilson knew that he
must decide instantly. To leave that prison without him was to leave
him to his death. He turned towards the cell door; he had promised.

The man had evidently recovered his strength somewhat, for he sat upon
the edge of the wooden bunk staring about him. He was alone in the
cell--the Priest was gone! On the whole, Wilson was glad of this. He
felt the better for not having the burden of his death, however richly
it was deserved, upon his hands. The girl apparently was still in too
much of a daze to recognize Sorez. Wilson spoke to him.

"Can you walk?"

"God," he cried. "Who are you? You speak English!"

Wilson repeated his question impatiently.

"If you can walk, follow me and I'll take you out of this hole."

The man tottered to his feet, groping with his hand along the wall.

"Here," said Wilson, overcoming a shrinking repugnance he now felt for
the man, "take my arm."

Sorez grabbed it and with this much help was able to get along. And
so, with the girl he loved upon one arm and the man he hated upon the
other, Wilson made his way along the slippery subterranean galleri