Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (178 page)

She
arose
when
I
came
within
a
few
paces
of
them.

"Let
us
go
out,"
said
she.

And
we
went
out
quietly.

Again
I
was
in
the
open.
I
breathed
deeply
of
the
chill
air
as
though drawing
on
a
fount
of
life;
as
though
striving
to
draw
strength
and sustenance
and
will
into
my
mind.

But
the
time
had
come
to
put
an
end
to
what
I
thought
of evasively
as
"all
this";
for
I
was
loath
to
submit
plainly
to
myself what
"all
this"
noted.
I
took
my
will
in
my
hand,
as
it
were,
and became
the
will
to
do,
I
scarcely
knew
what;
for
to
one
unused
to
the discipline
and
use
of
will
there
is
but
one
approach
to
it,
and
it
is through
anger.
The
first
experience
of
willing
is
brutal;
and
it
is
as though
a
weapon
of
offence,
a
spear
or
club,
were
in
one's
hand; and
as
I
walked
I
began
to
tingle
and
stir
with
useless
rage.

For
they
were
quiet,
and
against
my
latent
impetuosity
they
opposed
that
massive
barrier
from
which
I
lapsed
back
helplessly.

Excitement
I
understood
and
loved;
the
quicker
it
mounted,
the higher
it
surged,
the
higher
went
I.
Always
above
it,
master
of
it. Almost
I
was
excitement
incarnate;
ready
for
anything
that
might befall,
if
only
it
were
heady
and
masterless.
But
the
quietude
of
those left
me
like
one
in
a
void,
where
no
wing
could
find
a
grip
and
where I
scarce
knew
how
to
breathe.

It
was
now
early
night.

The
day
was
finished
and
all
that
remembered
the
sun
had
gone. The
wind
which
had
stirred
faintly
in
tall
branches
had
lapsed
to
rest. No
breath
moved
in
the
world,
and
the
clouds
that
had
hurried
before were
quiet
now,
or
were
journeying
in
other
regions
of
the
air.
Clouds there
were
in
plenty;
huge,
pilings
of
light
and
shade;
for
a
great
moon, burnished
and
thin,
and
so
translucent
that
a
narrowing
of
the
eyes might
almost
let
one
peer
through
it,
was
standing
far
to
the
left;
and in
the
spaces
between
the
clouds
there
was
a
sharp
scarce
glitter
of stars.

There
was
more
than
light
enough
to
walk
by;
for
that
great
disc of
the
heavens
poured
a
radiance
about
us
that
was
almost
as
bright as
day.

Now
as
I
walked
the
rage
that
had
begun
to
stir
within
ceased again,
and
there
crept
into
me
so
dull
a
lassitude
that
had
death stalked
to
us
in
the
field
I
should
not
have
stepped
from
his
way.

I
surrendered
everything
on
the
moment;
and,
for
the
mind
must justify
conduct,
I
justified
myself
in
the
thought
that
nothing
was worth
this
trouble;
and
that
nothing
was
so
desirable
but
it
could
be matched
elsewhere,
or
done
without.