eyes. He had come upon a
man's heart laid bare and was thrilled to the depths by the revelation.
He was as one who stands in a holy place, with uncovered head, in the
hush that follows prayer.

In the midst of his tenderness for his dead father welled up a
passionate loyalty toward the woman who slept in the room adjoining the
library, whose soul had "never been welded." She had known life no more
than a prattling brook in a meadow may know the sea. Bound in shallows,
she knew nothing of the unutterable vastness in which deep answered unto
deep; tide and tempest and blue surges were fraught with no meaning for
her.

The clock struck twelve and Roger still sat there, with his head resting
upon his hand. He read once more his father's wish to bequeath to him
his love, "with no barrier to divide it from its desire."

Hedged in by earth and hopelessly put asunder, could it at last come to
fulfilment through daughter and son? At the thought his heart swelled
with a pure passion all its own--the eager pulse-beats owed nothing to
the dead.

[Sidenote: Out into the Night]

He found a sheet of paper and reverently wrapped up the little brown
book. An hour later, he slipped under the string a letter of his own,
sealed and addressed, and quietly, though afraid that the beating of his
heart sounded in the stillness, went out into the night.

XXIV

The Bells in the Tower

The sea was very blue behind the Tower of Cologne, though it was not yet
dawn. The velvet darkness, in that enchanted land, seemed to have a
magical quality--it veiled but did not hide. Barbara went up the glass
steps, made of cologne bottles, and opened the door.

[Sidenote: The Tower Unchanged]

She had not been there for a long time, but nothing was changed. The
winding stairway hung with tapestries and the round windows at the
landings, through which one looked to the sea, were all the same.

King Arthur, Sir Lancelot and Guinevere were all in the Tower, as usual.
The Lady of Shalott was there, with Mr. Pickwick, Dora, and Little Nell.
All the dear people of the books moved through the lovely rooms,
sniffing at cologne, or talking and laughing with each other, just as
they pleased.

The red-haired young man and the two blue and white nurses were still
there, but they seemed to be on the point of going out. Doctor Conrad
and Eloise were in every room she went into. Eloise was all in white,
like a bride, and the Doctor was very, very happy