cited
girl by his side.

"But, sir----" gasped the porter.

"I'm afraid you don't belong to the night," said Wilson.

"Lord!" muttered the porter as he saw them step into the wet. "Lord!
they're mad--mad as hatters."

They swung into the damp stream of men and women with a fresh influx
of strength. They felt the action of the world--the vibrating pulse of
the engines. The Law still stood on the outside like an umpire, but
there were still many forces at work which the Law could not detect,
many opportunities for Chance to work, for the quick hand to move
stealthily. It was something of this they felt, as they brushed
along.

But they wished freer play even than this,--they wished to get where
the Law alone stood between them and their ego--and then once more
face down the Law. They turned into the big, dripping park with its
primeval furnishings of earth and grass and trees and deep shadows. It
was amid such surroundings alone that their own big, fundamental
emotions found adequate breathing space. They plunged into the silent
by-paths as a sun-baked man dives to the sandy bottom of a crystal
lake. And into it all they blended as one--each feeling the glory of a
perfected whole. Each saw with his own eyes and the eyes of the other,
too. It was as though each were given five new senses.

Near one of the large trees a shadow detached itself and stepped
towards them. It was a man in a rubber coat and a helmet.

"See," she whispered to him, "it is one of them!"

He saw and the old fighting instinct returned--the old rebellion. But
with it came a new responsibility. It was no longer just himself
against this thing--no longer the same wild freedom that took no
account of consequences.

"See," she trembled. "Shall we run?"

Then she clutched his arm more tightly. There was no need of running
now. He was there to face things--to stand firm and batter off.

"Oh, David!" she broke out, "we--we can't run any more."

"No," he answered steadily, "we must go straight ahead and pass him."

So they did, and as the policeman stooped a little the better to see
their faces, they each lifted their eyes to him and laughed. He tipped
his helmet.

"A bad night, sir," he said genially.

"A bully night," answered Wilson.

They went on more slowly after this, across the park and toward the
broad avenue. They came to where the brownstone houses blinked their
yellow eyes at them. The boards were all down now and the street all