* xY
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 . OP CALIF. LIBBABY. LOS AW5ELES
 
 THE ROAD TO 
 DAMASCUS 
 
 A NOVEL 
 
 BY 
 H. A. MITCHELL KEAYS 
 
 Author of "He That Eateth Bread with Me," 
 " The Work of Our Hands," etc. 
 
 BOSTON 
 SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
 
 1907
 
 Copyright, 1907 
 
 By Small, Maynard $ Company 
 Incorporated 
 
 Pressworlc by The University Press, Cambridge, U.S.A.
 
 TO 
 
 MY SONS 
 E. M. K v H. E. K., P. H. K. 
 
 21 ~ OR
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 Curious ! how marriage affected a man. 
 Two years, and he, Tim Homf rey he pulled 
 out his watch it was six o'clock an hour 
 since he had left her. 
 
 He was very tired ; in the turmoil of the last 
 week he had had no chance for rest ; with a sigh 
 of relief he leaned back, and let himself listen 
 to the thoughts which jostled each other in his 
 brain, in odd unison with the uneven movement 
 of the wheels beneath him. 
 
 It interested him to feel that he was still 
 tingling with the sense of elation which had 
 taken such buoyant possession of him in the mo- 
 ment when the legal firm of which he was a mem- 
 ber, with an influence disproportionate to his 
 place in the line, had united upon him as the 
 one of them all best fitted to discover some evi- 
 dence of paramount importance to a distin- 
 guished client evidence concealed in the un- 
 1
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 sophisticated but stubborn breasts of a pair of 
 Hungarian peasants, who, though man and wife, 
 had not spoken to each other for thirty years. 
 
 " I don't envy you your job," Dawson, the 
 senior member, had said to him. " Ten to one, 
 out of pure cussedness, they'll unite now in si- 
 lence against you. Silence appears to be their 
 chosen form of dissipation." 
 
 Homfrey remembered that he had smiled at 
 that. He had an easy love for humanity which 
 rendered all experience alluring ; the fascination 
 of planning how to besiege the secrets guarded 
 by such grim custodians appealed strongly to 
 his sense of humour. To be sure, the language 
 might prove a bar to the best effects, but he did 
 not premeditate failure it was not his habit. 
 In six weeks he would be at home again with 
 the desired information in his possession. 
 
 Yet his sense of elation in this affair was, 
 after all, only an under-current, for even now, 
 finally settled as he was in the train started on 
 its long run eastward, his mind was busier with 
 an exclusively personal problem than, with the 
 one towards which he journeyed. 
 
 He would send her a good-night telegram. 
 
 But words were perverse ; twist them as he 
 would, there was no way of giving subtle -expres-
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 sion, through so public a medium, to the one 
 thing he wanted to say the one thing that, 
 had she been near, a look would have sufficed to 
 reveal. 
 
 Yet for the moment, he allowed his attention 
 to be diverted from the blank on his knee. A 
 pretty woman came into the car, and posed her- 
 self in the seat across the aisle with a covert 
 attentiveness to effective detail which interested 
 him the Eternal Feminine, conscious of the 
 proximity of Man, betrayed itself in every turn 
 of her head. In due time he restored to her 
 the magazine which fell almost at his feet, an 
 accident so fortuitous that it might have seemed 
 the result of design, but for the lady's admir- 
 ably supported indifference to the catastrophe. 
 
 Opportunity enticed, but he sustained himself 
 resistant to it, with a dignified consciousness of 
 his devotion to Richarda. 
 
 What mysticism of passion there had been in 
 her refusing to take this trip with him ! Be- 
 cause, since their marriage, they had never been 
 separated, she chose now this experience of be- 
 ing left without him that she might know the 
 utter torment of it. 
 
 It was a strange thing the love of a 
 woman !
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 And moved by a sudden impulse which ren- 
 dered him defiant of the publicity of the com- 
 mon wire, he transformed with a few strokes the 
 unmeaning bit of paper into a thing charged 
 with human emotion; he wrote boldly: I love 
 you. 
 
 Late that night his message reached Richarda. 
 She read it ; then sat for an hour with it tight 
 clasped in her hand; when, at last, she slept, 
 it was with the dear touch of it still close to her. 
 
 How could the days pass without Tim? 
 
 But they did pass, and in the dread loneliness 
 of them, Richarda realized that since her mar- 
 riage her life had centred around two daily 
 events the events of her husband's leaving his 
 home in the morning, and of his return to it at 
 night. 
 
 Tim ! it was for her the master note, to 
 which all chords were attuned. Life and Death 
 God, Eternity ; such vast terms had no sig- 
 nificance in her ears save as they touched her 
 through him. 
 
 He had been gone a month ; she was no longer 
 
 writing to him; it was too near the time of his 
 
 return. That was a deprivation ; the making of 
 
 her letters had been a species of sacrament. She 
 
 4
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 had spent hours over a single phrase, only to 
 realize after the letter was posted, that for lack 
 of a single word it failed entirely to convey that 
 suggestion of the ardent depths in her heart, 
 which she had supposed it ingeniously con- 
 structed to reveal. 
 
 But now she was waiting for him, with a light 
 in her eyes that was new since his going. 
 
 He would come back to her he would meet 
 her would look into her face, not knowing 
 what wonderful thing had befallen her. For 
 she had begun to dream those dreams of which 
 the mother-heart makes to itself romance. 
 
 The pansies in her garden were still blooming, 
 despite the chill of December's snows upon them. 
 And as she looked at them, she thought what a 
 beautiful world it was this happy, happy 
 world in which she and Tim had found each 
 other.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 Mrs. Homfrey stood, reluctant, upon the 
 threshold of her little sitting-room. 
 
 " You wished to see me ? " she asked imper- 
 sonally; she resented the message which had 
 seemed to compel her to an interview with a 
 stranger. 
 
 " Yes Ma'am." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You see, it's like this, Mrs. Homfrey. I 
 don't know just how why, it's kind of hard 
 to begin." 
 
 " I can hardly help you, I fear, as I have no 
 idea " 
 
 " No. I guess likely you haven't." The 
 girl's manner was brusque to the point of im- 
 pertinence, but she was not conscious of that 
 she was frightened. But she was determined. 
 
 " Perhaps you would like to come again some 
 other day, when you know just what it is that 
 you wish to say." Richarda was distinctly an- 
 noyed. 
 
 6
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " No." There was a passion of decision in 
 the tone. " You don't know me, Mrs. Homfrey, 
 but I've found out lots about you." 
 
 " Indeed ! " Richarda stepped back ; the girl 
 stepped forward. 
 
 " You're real proud. Anybody can see that. 
 But you're kinder than you look. Belle Austin 
 told me that. She lived with you six months 
 when you were first married." 
 
 " You want help of some sort? " 
 
 " Yes. I do want help. But not any sort 
 that you'd be likely to mean." 
 
 Richarda resigned herself, but she did not ask 
 her visitor to take a seat ; they both remained 
 standing. 
 
 But the girl's hard black eyes softened. 
 " P'raps you won't think it's very nice what 
 I'm going to say. But I can't help that. It's 
 done, you see." 
 
 "Yes?" said Richarda. 
 
 " I guess you'd better know my name first 
 it's Minnie Minnie Barstow. I'm only twen- 
 ty-two now. That's young, isn't it ? to have 
 a boy of four." 
 
 " Yes." Another look came into Richarda's 
 eyes. 
 
 " You see I was barely eighteen when he 
 7
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 was born. That wasn't a very good thing for 
 me. There's so many things girls don't under- 
 stand until it's too late. It's all a good time 
 and excitement, and then ! Well, I was 
 lucky anyway. I had a friend who was nurse 
 in a kind of refuge hospital. She fixed things 
 for me and afterwards she wanted me to let the 
 baby be adopted. Some way I couldn't. But 
 my folks never knew. Myra found a place for 
 him in the country, and I got a situation in one 
 of the big stores I'm head of my department 
 now and that's it, you see " she was speak- 
 ing rapidly, her pale face flushed " the 
 trouble is now that nobody knows anything 
 about me that isn't to my credit, except Myra, 
 and she'll never tell. Myra knows I always was 
 a good girl, except just and then I 
 couldn't help myself. You'd understand that, 
 Mrs. Homfrey. Nobody else could so well." 
 
 " 7 understand? " 
 
 " Yes, you would. It wasn't my fault. 
 There's some things no girl can stand up 
 against, and those that say they can, don't 
 know they've never been tried. It isn't easy 
 to be only seventeen, and to have some things 
 come your way. Oh, I've been hard enough on 
 myself, God knows, but there's another side. 
 8
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 And now that I've got this good chance to get 
 married he's head of his department too and 
 the straightest kind of man, and he thinks I'm 
 just everything Oh, everything that I wish I 
 was, Mrs. Homf rey " there was the hint of 
 tears in the girl's voice " Well, don't you see? 
 he'd never marry me if he knew. But I'm 
 not a bad woman. I know I'm better than lots 
 of girls who might never do what I did, and 
 I'd like to tell him the truth, but I can't. He'd 
 never look at me again. And yet I'd be just 
 the same girl he's so wild over now. I tell you 
 there isn't much of some things in a man's love 
 that's just what means love to a woman. Why, 
 if I knew anything like that about him, do you 
 think I couldn't forgive him? " 
 
 " Sit down," said Richarda kindly. She won- 
 dered still why this story had been brought to 
 her, but she was not able to resist its appeal to 
 her sympathy. 
 
 " All I'd want to know of him," continued 
 the girl wearily, " would be did he love me 
 now? Don't you think that's all that really 
 matters ? " She looked wistfully at Richarda. 
 
 " Yes in a way. But I wish you could be 
 honest with him." 
 
 The hard look came back into the girl's face. 
 9
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " It's wasting time wishing that," she said drily. 
 " I can't be. All that I can do now is to do 
 the best I know how for my little boy." 
 
 " Ah yes ! the little boy." 
 
 " And that means this, Mrs. Homfrey." The 
 girl's excitement rose again she stood up. 
 " My little boy has been a misery to me, but 
 he's just the cutest thing. He isn't a bit like 
 me not a bit." She looked curiously at 
 Richarda. " He's the image of his father." 
 
 " I should think you would hate that." 
 Richarda felt repulsed by what she took to be 
 an evidence of strange hardihood in the girl. 
 
 " No. I love it." There was 'infinite pathos 
 in the simple statement; Richarda was quick to 
 feel that. 
 
 " Whenever I see my little boy I understand 
 how it all happened. He's here, and he's so 
 sweet that when I look at him I don't see why 
 it need make any difference how he got here. 
 Marriage is a mighty funny thing, if you be- 
 gin to think about it. It always seems to me 
 that it whitewashes some things that are sights 
 uglier than anything I ever did. It makes me 
 mad thinking about it. And yet I'm going to 
 get married, and I've got to let my little boy 
 go. There's no other way to make Bert happy." 
 10
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda drew a long breath. " You would 
 part with your little child ? how can you do 
 that for this man? " 
 
 " I don't know. You wouldn't think I could, 
 would you? But I can." She looked at Ri- 
 charda in sudden defiance. " After all, if you're 
 honest when you come down to it nothing 
 counts with a woman but the man." 
 
 " My poor girl ! " exclaimed Richarda, moved 
 to compassion by impulses she had no time to 
 analyze. 
 
 Minnie Barstow's eyes filled with tears, but 
 she brushed them roughly away. " I wish I'd 
 been made different in the beginning," she said 
 unsteadily. " But I wasn't. And wishing's 
 wasting, you know. All I can do now for my 
 little boy is to make things as good as I can 
 for him. And then let them be. That's why 
 I've come to you." She paused abruptly, then 
 added in a gathered passion of determination: 
 " I want you to take him, Mrs. Homfrey, and 
 bring him up for me. Then he'll never need 
 to be sorry he was born, and he'll never miss 
 me. Belle Austin said you had the kindest heart 
 that beat." 
 
 Richarda rose with dignity. " My good 
 girl," she said patiently, " I'm very sorry for 
 11
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 you I can appreciate the difficulties that be- 
 set you but really to ask me to take your 
 child!" 
 
 " But you will take him. From the minute 
 I first thought of it, I've always known you 
 would." 
 
 Such calmness of presumption was both pa- 
 thetic and ludicrous. 
 
 " Then you are most unhappily mistaken. It 
 does not occur to you, I suppose, that such a 
 demand could only be justified by your having 
 some very strong claim upon me." 
 
 " I have the claim." 
 
 The colour rose in Richarda's face. " A 
 claim on me that could justify such a request 
 as that? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 For a moment Richarda was tempted to laugh, 
 but this was no laughing matter after all. Such 
 nonsense was not to be endured she made a 
 movement towards the door. 
 
 " Wait ! " said the girl. 
 
 Richarda waited, but Minnie Barstow hesi- 
 tated. " It's kind of hard to tell you," she fal- 
 tered. " My child is your husband's child, Mrs. 
 Homfrey." 
 
 Then, as if she thought her mission accom- 
 12
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 plished, she sat down. But the next moment 
 she stood up. " I'm sorry," she began 
 
 " Sorry ! " Richarda took the word from her 
 even while she wondered how a poor creature 
 came to be driven to such a pass as this. " If 
 you were sorry for anything, you would not say 
 things like that. You must go now. I cannot 
 have you here a moment longer." 
 
 But the girl stood back. " I can't go yet. 
 Because what I have said is true. Your hus- 
 band" 
 
 " Do not speak of him." There was a dan- 
 gerous light in Richarda's eyes. 
 
 But Minnie Barstow was not daunted. 
 " Your husband is away. I know that. Would 
 you like me to wait until he gets home and then 
 come here and ask him before you to deny that 
 I might be the mother of his child? Or shall 
 I go to see him without letting you know any- 
 thing about it? would you like that? " 
 
 Richarda looked at the girl in a dazed way. 
 Just to hear such things said filled one with a 
 senseless fear. But when she spoke her voice 
 was calm. " Yes. He will be at home very 
 soon. I should like you to come here then." 
 
 " Very well." Minnie Barstow turned to the 
 door. And that terrified Richarda more than 
 13
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 anything else she could have done she did not 
 understand why. Something dreadful was hap- 
 pening, but it did not concern her it con- 
 cerned that girl. She herself was quite calm 
 she was not afraid of anything. 
 
 But she had grown white to her lips. Some- 
 where, something was saying that things like 
 this were sometimes true? No, they were 
 lies, hideous black lies. 
 
 If only Tim were here ! lie would know 
 what to do with this girl. 
 
 At the door Minnie Barstow looked back ; 
 she hesitated as if she had something more to 
 say. But Richarda gave her no chance. 
 
 " Come here ! " she said in a sudden blaze of 
 anger " Come here, and tell me that you are 
 never going to say that wicked thing again. 
 Tell me that it was a lie you know it was." 
 
 Minnie Barstow's sharp face softened. " You 
 poor woman, I'm real sorry for you. I wish 
 I hadn't had to tell you. Now, see here " she 
 spoke as if soothing a fractious child " just 
 you listen to me, and you'll know for yourself 
 it's true. I don't want to make any fuss about 
 it. And you don't. 'Tisn't good for either of 
 us. Maybe you're thinking your husband was 
 real bad. He wasn't any more than I was.
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He never knew there was a child. Mercy no ! 
 It seems funny it could happen so, but it did. 
 That was five years ago it was his last year 
 in college. It was all such a rush at the last. 
 He said he'd write me, but after he was gone I 
 remembered that I'd never got his address. And 
 then father sent me to the city to a place in 
 a store our house was full of girls growing 
 up he wasn't afraid to let me go because 
 Myra had written that she'd look after me. 
 And she did ! She stood by me. She wanted to 
 try to find him. But I wouldn't let her. I was 
 too mad then. Can't you understand that? " 
 
 Richarda made no answer. 
 
 " I only wanted to be let alone," the girl went 
 on in the deeper voice of remembrance. " I was 
 miserable. After I was well again I went back 
 to the store. And last spring I was transfer- 
 red here and one day, on the street, I saw 
 him. Then I found out about you." 
 
 And still Richarda said nothing. She was 
 looking out of the window; she could see the 
 pansies, blooming bravely purple in the snow 
 which had begun to fall again. She was think- 
 ing that once, long ago, in barbarous times, 
 men had been pressed to death beneath cruel 
 weights. She wondered dully if it had felt like 
 this. 
 
 15
 
 Her silence puzzled Minnie Barstow. She 
 was uncertain what it meant, but with a vague 
 impression that she ought to offer something in 
 the way of consolation she said : " Why, Mrs. 
 Homfrey, I wouldn't like you to think that your 
 husband " 
 
 Richarda turned her head and looked at her, 
 but the girl did not understand. She went on : 
 " Why, lots of things like that happen. You'd 
 know, if you were in a store. A man isn't bad 
 just because he Why, lots of women never 
 know those things about their husbands. It's 
 only because of the child if it wasn't for him, 
 you'd never " 
 
 " Be quiet ! " said Richarda breathlessly. 
 There were tears in her eyes ; nothing had hurt 
 like this. 
 
 " Oh now, don't ! " entreated the girl. 
 " You're making it out so much worse than it is. 
 My ! I wish I could have managed some other 
 way. But I couldn't. And you'll never hear 
 of me again after we're married. We're going 
 West I don't want you to know where. If 
 you'll only take little Jack. And when you see 
 him you'll see for yourself that he's " 
 
 Richarda held up her hand in a frightened 
 vay. " You mustn't say that," she said faintly. 
 16
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Well, I won't, I'm sure. But you needn't 
 feel so about it. Men don't look at some things 
 the way women do. It's a pity they don't, but 
 you can't alter that. I'm only telling you that 
 because it's so, and I've had to learn to under- 
 stand that. I don't want to make things hard 
 for you all I want is for my boy to be where 
 he belongs in a sort of way, growing up good 
 with you." 
 
 Richarda rose suddenly a great stillness 
 possessed her. 
 
 " Listen ! " she said. " Get down on your 
 knees and swear to me swear by the soul of 
 your little child swear, that you have told me 
 the truth." 
 
 The girl burst into tears. " Oh, my soul, 
 Mrs. Homfrey ! I didn't know you'd feel like 
 that about it." 
 
 When she was gone, Richarda put up her 
 hands to her head in a dazed way. " I wonder 
 if that girl thought I believed that of of 
 Tim," she said slowly. 
 
 But that was only the beginning of the strug- 
 gle. 
 
 Richarda passed through days and nights 
 of unutterable blackness ; there seemed nothing 
 to trust in the wide Universe. Then in some 
 17 

 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 blessed moment, her faith would emerge trium- 
 phant from the clouds which had so strangely 
 obscured it. 
 
 But in turn, that phase would pass. For al- 
 ways, every day, there was Minnie Barstow to be 
 reckoned with; she might as well have tried ar- 
 gument upon an ice-berg. The girl's mind was 
 set on one purpose ; she meant to marry the man 
 who wished to marry her, and she meant to go 
 to him with what, the longer she thought her 
 plan over, presented itself to her as a clear con- 
 science. She developed a curious tenderness for 
 Richarda which, however, betrayed her into no 
 flinching of ultimate intention, especially as 
 she soon divined the fact that, in Richarda's 
 hands, her secret would be doubly safe- 
 guarded. She was a girl who had risen to a 
 responsible position through her ability to deal 
 cleverly with a particularly difficult class of 
 customers ; her experience had been such as to 
 fit her to guage with almost uncanny shrewdness 
 the effect of certain arguments upon Richarda. 
 She marshalled her proofs with a deadly skill ; 
 she referred to Homfrey at times with a subtle 
 past possessiveness which caused his wife the 
 keenest torture which made her feel willing 
 at any cost to purchase this girl's silence si- 
 18
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 lence to herself. She blanched before those lit- 
 tle details which furnished such convicting 
 proof of the hateful thing charged against the 
 man she loved. 
 
 And all the while the days and nights were 
 hurrying by, in brutal chase of each other, eager 
 to bring her face to face with him again. 
 
 And each day, more helplessly than before, 
 she wondered at the strange fate which had come 
 upon her, and whither it would lead her. 
 
 " Listen, Minnie," she said at last when she 
 felt she could bear no more, " you must not come 
 to see me again until I send for you. I will let 
 you know what I mean, to do." 
 
 Then she went into exile with her soul. 
 
 Ten days later, she stood in her sitting-room 
 alone with the child. His mother, whom he 
 had never known as such, had taken brief, un- 
 demonstrative farewell of him. Fate, she felt, 
 had after all, been very good to her; she was 
 able to wipe a stain from her memory which had 
 caused her acute anxiety. " We're to be mar- 
 ried on Monday," she said to Richarda in part- 
 ing " and go right off. If I don't ever see you 
 again and I shan't " 
 
 " Never mind," said Richarda wanly. 
 
 " You're not looking a bit well," said the girl 
 anxiously. " I'm real sorry for that." 
 19
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " It doesn't matter." 
 
 " My, but you're a good woman ! " exclaimed 
 Minnie Barstow, moved to unusual expression 
 by something she could not understand. Ri- 
 charda smiled. But if she had moaned aloud it 
 would not have surprised her. She would have 
 been glad in that moment of the courage to 
 abandon herself to her desires, and go down on 
 her knees and implore the girl not to leave her 
 with that child. But she was silent, as the 
 victim in the hour of sacrifice. She shut the 
 door upon Minnie Barstow, and went back to 
 the child. 
 
 He remained perched where his mother had 
 placed him an adorable thing, dressed with a 
 patrician simplicity of style which did credit to 
 Minnie Barstow's quick wits. As Richarda 
 came into the room he slipped off his chair, and 
 looked about him in a troubled way ; he picked 
 up his cap and put it on. 
 
 Richarda stood still and stared at him; ter- 
 ror seized her. How could anyone doubt who 
 had once seen his yes ? how could all the 
 world fail to understand? 
 
 And he was there, no longer an abstract prop- 
 osition, but a fact, human, dependent depend- 
 ent upon her, of all others. 
 20
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 The child sighed ; he was growing frightened. 
 But he remained silent, though his lip quivered. 
 
 " You poor little boy ! " said Richarda. In- 
 stinctively, she held out her hand to him, as she 
 would have held it to any lonely helpless child. 
 
 But the slipping of the soft fingers within her 
 own was more than she could bear; a misery 
 of tears filled her eyes. 
 
 " Poor lady ! " 
 
 The touch of the little, soothing hand upon 
 her cheek did for her what suffering had not 
 done it broke down the stoical self-control be- 
 hind which she had entrenched herself. 
 
 " Oh, little boy," she whispered in a sudden 
 passion of pity for herself and for him he 
 was alone and so was she " " Little boy, 
 don't be afraid, for I will be good to you. I 
 will."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 According to her plan, detailed to him with a 
 complexity which it had been a labour of love 
 to elaborate, Richarda was to meet her husband 
 upon his arrival in New York ; the moment came 
 when his last word from London written upon 
 the eve of sailing, warned her that if she in- 
 tended to do as she had promised there was no 
 time to lose. 
 
 Already, the child clung to her; there was 
 that in Richarda which inclined the souls of 
 men, big or little, to put their trust in her. Yet 
 she was not indiscriminately fond of children; 
 like a person, a child must deserve her love in 
 order to obtain it. 
 
 But this little Jack with what tenacity of 
 appeal he had fastened himself upon her heart ! 
 he had not been in the house a day before she 
 found herself listening for the coming of his 
 steps. He called her " Lady " with an intona- 
 tion that charmed; in the darkness of the night 
 she flew to him when she heard his frightened 
 voice saying softly : " Lady where is Lady ? "
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 eager to soothe, she was thrilled by the touch 
 of the comforted little hand, so soft in hers. 
 
 But what did she mean to do about him? 
 
 She did not know ; she was living blindly now, 
 from hour to hour, waiting to see what hap- 
 pened. She had as yet but one clear thought 
 in regard to the problems that faced her she 
 had married Timothy Homfrey for better, for 
 worse; she was no coward. 
 
 Beyond that, she refused to think; she re- 
 fused to permit to herself, after the first crush- 
 ing hours of conviction, further analysis of the 
 disaster which had befallen her. 
 
 It was because her wound was so deep that her 
 numbness was so great. By and by she under- 
 stood that. 
 
 To her household she explained that she had 
 taken the little boy because he was friendless ; 
 in this instance her habitual reserve stood her in 
 good stead; her servants were too much accus- 
 tomed to it to expect informing details. 
 
 " I wouldn't wonder if she don't know one 
 thing about him herself," said Anna to the 
 others. " This morning I went in to tell her 
 about some clothes he's needing she listened 
 to me with that far-away look she has in her 
 eyes, and then she said : " Oh Anna, I wish you 
 23
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 wouldn't talk to me about it. Go away, and 
 get whatever he wants." I asked her what his 
 name was, and she stared at me as blank as a 
 blind cat and said : " I don't know I never 
 thought of that." Then I asked him. But 
 my ! you can't get much to rely on out of a child 
 of four. I got desperate at last and said: 
 "Was it Perkins?" and he said: "Yes." 
 Then I said : " Maybe it's Smith," and he said : 
 " Yes." And he smiled as sweet at me ! He's 
 a real interesting child." 
 
 He proved to be that, perhaps as much by his 
 easy grace in lying as by anything else. Ri- 
 charda was appalled ; she had never imagined an 
 innocent child capable of such fertility of in- 
 vention in disposing of evidence likely to in- 
 criminate him. 
 
 " Kitty did that bad Kitty ! " he remarked 
 with an air of regretful candour when Richarda 
 discovered him in front of her mirror, her big- 
 gest scissors in his right hand, and in the other, 
 a lock of hair from the middle of his forehead. 
 
 " Then shall I whip Kitty? " asked Richarda. 
 
 "Yes Lady whip Kitty bad Kitty." 
 
 Richarda was shocked. 
 
 " Law Ma'am ! don't take his little ways too 
 seriously," said Anna. " My mother always
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 stuck to it children lied j ust like they cried 
 as a means of passing the time. She said a child 
 didn't expect anybody but a fool to believe his 
 little tales. She said it didn't make a bit of 
 difference in the long run so long as you didn't 
 tell the child he was lying." 
 
 And ultimately, in despair, perhaps as the re- 
 sult of an experience similar to that of Anna's 
 mother, Richarda threw ethical considerations 
 to the four winds, and decided that if Jack 
 would lie and that was apparently a con- 
 clusion best foregone he might as well lie 
 happily. Thus she laid lightly aside some 
 weighty theories as to the training of youth in 
 exchange for the idea that it was first her duty 
 to make this child happy then, if possible, 
 good. There was surely more chance of his 
 being good if he were happy than if he were un- 
 happy. 
 
 Perhaps she planned more eagerly for his 
 happiness than she realized because she herself 
 was in such stress of unhappiness. She believed 
 that she had ceased to demand of life anything 
 for herself neither love nor pity neither 
 joy nor peace. She did not feel now that the 
 man she had married had done her an especial 
 wrong that because of this little child she 
 25
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 owed him any grudge, or that he owed her ex- 
 planation, repentance. Her entire conception 
 of life had suffered overturn that was all. It 
 was not the fault of her husband, nor of herself 
 that the man she had married had been the prod- 
 uct of their joint imaginings that was the 
 way of love. And for the man it was a very 
 good way so good that the task which lay 
 before her was never to let him suspect that she 
 had discovered him to be made of other than the 
 stuff of which her dreams had fashioned him. 
 
 That was the task that lay before her that 
 he should never know. She must protect him 
 from all knowledge that debased she must 
 keep before him the vision in which she had 
 believed; she must never destroy that ideal of 
 himself as noble, good, and true simple words, 
 which ached strangely on her lips in which 
 she had thought that he too believed. 
 
 As to herself, she must face the truth. Life 
 was no gaily tinted dream. A month ago she 
 would have passed Minnie Barstow in the street, 
 unconscious of the link which bound them. But 
 the link would have been there, nevertheless. 
 
 She must try to understand why a man was 
 some of those strange things he appeared to be, 
 because it was with such a real man that she was 
 to live out her life. 
 
 26
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 But the questions which came to her in this 
 search after understanding were strange and 
 terrible. How could a man pass through such 
 an experience, and then let all remembrance of it 
 drift lightly out of his life ? Had men the 
 men she was trying so hard to understand no 
 conscience about things like that? 
 
 The child came into the room and held his 
 bleeding finger towards her. " Lady mend that. 
 Jack's finger all bwoke," he said with a little 
 sob she had discovered that he never cried 
 aloud when he was hurt only when he was 
 frightened or angry. She " mended " the 
 finger, and took him up on her lap ; he fell 
 asleep with his head against her breast. She 
 looked long at him ; she was thinking that he be- 
 longed to a strange sort. 
 
 Life had become curiously unreal to her; she 
 seemed to have passed from the substance of 
 things into the shadow of them. A man had 
 told her that he loved her she had believed 
 him, and had given herself to him; the child to 
 be was the measure of her faith in him. She 
 wondered if men knew what they meant by that 
 difficult word Love. 
 
 Men behind the impersonality she uncon- 
 sciously screened the one man with whom her 
 27
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 thoughts were concerned. But out of the chaos 
 of her thinking there slowly emerged a definite 
 aim. She would make reparation; she was the 
 only one who could. A great opportunity had 
 come to her the opportunity to wipe out her 
 husband's but she hesitated, apprehensive of 
 the word which rose to her lips. If she could 
 only help this child to grow into worthy man- 
 hood if she could only prove that the world 
 was a better place because he had come into it, 
 then his life would be justified it would be, 
 in a way, its own excuse for being. It was only 
 a question of elimination elimination of her- 
 self, of her prejudice her childish selfishness. 
 
 In the long run, her arguments always 
 brought her back to that the healing of this 
 wound in her husband's honour depended upon 
 her upon the fineness of her courage, her 
 pride upon her faith in the essential upright- 
 ness of Tim. She must not fail him at the point 
 where he needed her most. 
 
 A high commission was offered to her, but it 
 was only after days and nights of bitter think- 
 ing that she at last held out her hand to receive 
 it. Doubt of herself, hunger for revenge 
 scorn of the faiths she had held most dear 
 all these she knew before she made the mystical 
 28
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 surrender of herself which marked the begin- 
 ning of a new life for her as surely as if she had 
 taken veil and vow. In those flaming moments 
 of repudiation when she flung back to the Un- 
 known the burden which had been laid upon her 
 with wildest " I will not " she best knew 
 herself conquered. 
 
 She was to meet Homfrey in New York on the 
 twenty-second ; the tedious hours of the j ourney 
 seemed to her neither long nor short ; they were 
 but a continuation of that general blur in which 
 everything that concerned her seemed involved. 
 
 She walked slowly down Fifth Avenue ; it was 
 the " dimmit " time the city's highway was 
 etherealised in its mighty glamour. Away in 
 the distance, as though anchored to the sky by 
 invisible chain, a perilously slender building 
 descended in aerial line to earth ; the pale beauty 
 of the twilight glorified the commonest facts of 
 wood and stone it was a city of dreams that 
 Richarda looked upon. 
 
 During the night a light rain began to fall, 
 changing from that into a driving sleet, and 
 then into the snow that stings. By the 
 time Richarda went to breakfast the streets were 
 in the grasp of a blizzard, yet there was that 
 Salvation Army woman she had noticed the 
 29
 
 night before, back at her post, soliciting for the 
 Waifs' Christmas dinner. She felt disgusted. 
 It was not a sense of devotion that kept her 
 there in the face of such weather it was the 
 stupid obstinacy of the self-righteous martyr. 
 
 She determined to forget the woman, but she 
 could not she grew more and more restless ; 
 at last she took a bill from her purse. " Send 
 that to that woman out there," she said to her 
 waiter. " And tell her to go home." 
 
 By and by a bell-boy hunted her up. " Yes, 
 I know," she said, anticipating his message, " I 
 don't want to hear what she said, because she 
 hasn't gone home, and I'm very angry." But 
 she smiled, and the boy grinned. 
 
 All that morning she waited, imprisoned, for 
 word from the Steam-Ship company. None 
 came ; in the afternoon she called up the office. 
 
 The Elysia had not yet been heard from, but 
 there was not the least cause for anxiety ; the 
 weather was against her. To-morrow, without 
 doubt, she would be reported. 
 
 But the twenty-third came the twenty- 
 fourth. Yes, there had probably been some 
 accident, which but for the unfortunate weather 
 would most likely not have amounted to any- 
 thing. The voice of the Company became me- 
 chanically calm, but it admitted no fears. 
 30
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 The twenty-fifth she telegraphed again to 
 Anna it would be a strange Christmas for 
 that little boy Jack. 
 
 When she reached the hotel on the night of 
 the twenty-sixth, after a day practically spent 
 at the office of the Steam-Ship company, she sat 
 down quietly and for a long time hardly stirred. 
 All through the dragging day there had been 
 someone else to think of the mother waiting 
 for her boy the young man, who five minutes 
 after his first word to her, unburdened so much 
 of his history and latest love-affair that hence- 
 forth he bore himself towards her with the air 
 of a life-long intimate the quiet woman in the 
 corner who was much too shy to take anyone 
 voluntarily into her confidence, but who, being 
 much blustered upon by the young man, finally 
 admitted in an unpremeditated burst of volu- 
 bility : " My Christmas dinner was spoilt 
 utterly spoilt, and everything done to a turn. 
 I couldn't believe my husband wouldn't get here 
 for it I had everything the way he likes it 
 best. You'd think this Company would be 
 ashamed of itself. But these big concerns 
 don't care for anybody I've always said so." 
 She glared at the sorely harassed clerk, who was 
 endeavouring to explain to another woman why 
 31
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 it seemed premature to conclude that the boat 
 had been burnt at sea to another, how long 
 it would take a man with a life-belt to swim an 
 unknown distance, and to a determined gentle- 
 man who made demand for the " Elysia " regu- 
 larly every ten minutes, seeming to be convinced 
 that the Company had the boat and all its pas- 
 sengers somewhere up its sleeve that the 
 steamer was not in yet, but was expected at any 
 moment. 
 
 Then there was the man to pacify who wished 
 to inquire merely to inquire why in these 
 advanced days boats were not equipped with self- 
 acting safety devices such as would render all 
 accidents mechanically impossible. He and 
 the other man presently fastened upon each 
 other as kindred spirits ; they paced the floor, 
 devising suits against the Company, whose pur- 
 pose they easily proved to be the destruction of 
 human life. 
 
 But no one smiled at them. Their lack of 
 common-sense was but evidence of the serious- 
 ness of that anxiety, which was spread like a 
 pall over every heart. 
 
 A band of Salvation Army workers came in 
 their leader talked quietly with the clerk for 
 some minutes, then imparted to his companions 
 32
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the information he had gained ; the boat had a 
 distinguished party of their officials on board. 
 
 There was a moment's stir; they fell on their 
 knees ; a man's voice was raised in the simplicity 
 of earnest prayer: "Our most blessed Lord and 
 God we come to Thee in trouble. Help us 
 to know that we are resting in the hollow of 
 Thy hand, Thy blessed hand of love. Help us 
 to realise that beneath the shadow of the Great 
 Rock there is rest, eternal rest. O our most 
 blessed Lord and God, we remember that Thou 
 didst walk the raging sea, that Thou didst still 
 the troubled waters. We remember that our 
 loved ones are not alone upon the wide ocean, 
 for Thou art with them they are safe, there 
 as here. And so, help us, O most blessed God, 
 each one, to look up into the brightness of Thy 
 face and to say: Lord Jesus, I rest in Thee." 
 
 The chorus of Hallelujahs rose fervent, then 
 all was still until a woman broke into jubilant 
 song: 
 
 Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine! 
 
 O what a foretaste of glory divine! 
 Heir of Salvation, purchase of God, 
 
 Born of His Spirit, washed in His Blood. 
 
 The dingy room was transfigured, the mystery 
 33
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of faith weaving its spell about each heart while 
 a common terror bound one to the other; for 
 this brief moment of contact believer and scoffer 
 met on equal ground. 
 
 Richarda sat with bent head and closed eyes. 
 She was caught up on high in the ecstasy of 
 vision the meaning of life seemed divinely 
 revealed to her. Renunciation that strong 
 cry of a long line of souls of purest spiritual de- 
 scent Renunciation the word beat upon her 
 heart. 
 
 Perfect submission, all is at rest, 
 
 I in my Saviour am happy and blest 
 
 Pathetic doggerel, sung with an abandon and 
 vehemence of tempo that would have done credit 
 to a music-hall! But from the beginning of 
 things, the spirit of man has through strange 
 ways secured his exaltation into the realm of the 
 Invisible. To Richarda, as to others at this 
 moment, it mattered little by what steps they 
 had climbed they were upon the Mount. 
 
 But it was night; she was alone once more. 
 Outside, the storm which for a time had lessened, 
 had increased in fury. What ship, disabled, 
 helpless, could brave out such tempest? 
 
 She was alone again with those questions that 
 34
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 bewildered her. Even in this time of an anxiety 
 that froze and fevered in her heart alternately, 
 they would not let her go. 
 
 And yet if she could only see him for a 
 moment if she might only tell him that she 
 had thought these cruel things because she did 
 not know, because she could not understand 
 The words turned back on her lips. She did 
 know she did understand. 
 
 There was a knock at the door late though 
 it was, a card was handed in to her. It was 
 that of Dawson, the senior member of Homfrey's 
 firm. She hurried down to see him. 
 
 " Yes, I know you wired me not to come," 
 he began instantly, " but I couldn't stand it a 
 minute longer. My wife and I Oh, we didn't 
 have me come on because we felt at all anxious 
 about this boat it was only because we were 
 afraid you might have considerable time hang- 
 ing on your hands, and get to feeling lonesome. 
 Now, if you could smoke but I suppose you 
 don't? " Richarda laughed she had almost 
 forgotten that she could. 
 
 The twenty-seventh passed the twenty- 
 eighth. Incoming vessels reported no news of 
 the " Elysia " the Company no longer con- 
 cealed its fears. Richarda lay still for long 
 35
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 hours, her eyes fixed upon the telephone; she 
 started violently when it clicked occasionally ; 
 under the strain of her demand upon it for ut- 
 terance, it seemed to acquire personality. In 
 the afternoon Dawson broke in upon her, and 
 took her by main force of persuasion for a walk, 
 under pretence of requiring her help in buying 
 something for his wife. At any other time it 
 would have been a luxury to shop with him 
 he was so ignorant, so naive, but always equal 
 to the situation. 
 
 " That lace now," he said, pointing to a piece 
 on the counter. 
 
 " Forty-five dollars a yard," snapped the girl, 
 putting it back into the drawer without a look 
 at him. 
 
 " Would you please let me know how many 
 yards there are in the bolt? " he asked mildly. 
 
 " There's twelve yards and three-eighths," 
 announced the girl presently. 
 
 " Thank you. If I took it I should require 
 thirteen," said Dawson blandly and walked on. 
 
 " It's exasperating," he remarked to Ri- 
 charda, " here we are, working ourselves up to 
 the boiling point, and I'll lay ten to one at this 
 moment Homfrey is probably pocketing the 
 pool with that open-hearted smile of his never 
 36
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 was such a lucky dog I Great Scott ! nobody 
 who knows him would expect him to make this 
 trip and not have something dramatic happen. 
 That isn't his way. Now look at me ! I was 
 born without style you can't imagine any 
 self-respecting ship doing fancy stunts because 
 I happened to be on board. But Homfrey 
 it's always like a scene in a play when you come 
 to Homfrey." 
 
 Richarda smiled ; she understood Dawson's 
 manoeuvres; his coming had alarmed her more 
 than anything else, but she was glad he had 
 come. 
 
 And now it was night again night, that she 
 dreaded, when the burr of the elevators rasping 
 the shaft was the only sound left over from the 
 activities of the day. 
 
 She wondered dully how much longer she 
 could bear this ; even as she wondered, pathetic 
 fragments of prayer rose to her lips and 
 sounded strange in her ears. 
 
 It was useless to pretend that she thought 
 she could sleep ; she got up, and turning on the 
 light, began to read. She hurried through 
 page after page she began to think the story 
 interested her. But the next moment she was 
 sobbing. Tim loved her she knew it no 
 37
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 deed of his could destroy her faith in that. She 
 moved a high-backed chair between the telephone 
 and her eyes, and began to think again. But 
 she could not stand that better see the thing 
 than feel it boring through to her heart. Then 
 she sat still, looking at it imploring, demand- 
 ing, as if she thought it could hear her. She 
 knew it would not answer, but the clamour in 
 her brain dulled the aching in her ears, so tired 
 of listening. 
 
 And then, suddenly, as she looked at it, it 
 rang with an outcry into the silence as terri- 
 fying as a midnight alarm of fire. 
 
 " Oh God ! " she said in a frightened whis- 
 per ; she staggered to it as a blind woman might. 
 
 But she could hear nothing the tumult 
 within herself was so great. 
 
 " I can't hear you," she cried helplessly ; she 
 beat with her hand upon the wall ; she had a 
 feeling that the news would escape and never 
 become hers. 
 
 " What ? " she said again ; the expression of 
 her face did not change, though the tears poured 
 over it, as she mechanically repeated the mes- 
 sage : " The ' Elysia ' sighted being towed 
 in better be at the dock at ten in the morn- 
 ing." 
 
 38
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She hung up the receiver and the next 
 minute looked at the instrument, doubting. 
 Had it said that? the " Elysia" sighted? 
 She felt the tears on her face and wondered. 
 There was nothing to weep about. She had 
 never really doubted that the boat would get in. 
 
 Four o'clock ; seven no ! six hours to 
 wait ; there was no need to be in a hurry. But 
 in feverish haste she laid out her hat and coat. 
 
 " I can't," she whispered a long time after- 
 wards. " I never can meet him. What can I 
 say? There's Jack and everything" A 
 sob broke from her. " And I'm so afraid. 
 And it isn't true I do love him." 
 
 She stood up, shaken, by a sudden storm. 
 " Why did you do it, Tim ? How could you 
 when 7 was to love you ? " 
 
 39
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 From far down the river front came the mur- 
 mur of prolonged cheering as the " Elysia " 
 grew clear upon the distance; the stout little 
 tug which had her in tow snorted pompously as it 
 nosed its way through the jam, of craft of all 
 descriptions wedged along her course. Whistles 
 and fog-horns rioted in a frenzy of jubilation; 
 men shouted and women waved handkerchiefs 
 on general principles without reference to their 
 having friend or relative on board. " Gee ! 
 ain't it great ! " exclaimed one small Arab to 
 another as he turned a hand-spring out of the 
 sheer necessity of the situation " Gee ! but I 
 wish it happened every day." 
 
 It was a great sight ; the weird beauty of the 
 vessel drew unconscious acclaim from those who 
 consciously realised nothing of it. She came 
 on steadily a mystic ship, sheeted with ice 
 from mast-head to water-line; glittering in 
 the cold brilliance of the sun like a silver phan- 
 tom perilously apt to vanish in the sighing of 
 faintest breeze; a dream ship, floating towards 
 40
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the abodes of men from some far-off shore of 
 forsaken romance. 
 
 But it was at the Company's dock that ex- 
 citement was at the maximum ; grouped close 
 to its edge the Salvation Army people were 
 holding a meeting as unconscious of the throng 
 pressing upon them as if they stood within the 
 precincts of Paradise. But no one noticed 
 them every face was strained upon the near- 
 ing ship. 
 
 " I've got great respect for the drummers 
 who travel with that line of goods," remarked 
 Dawson to Richarda. " They're only one more 
 variety of the human fool, maybe, but they're a 
 mighty beneficent variety. There's a lot in that 
 uniform, of course. I've often thought I'd be a 
 shining light if you could get me into one of 
 those rigs. I'd think differently, and act dif- 
 ferently, and I'd be different. Upon my soul, 
 it's pretty bewildering to get meditating on 
 these things. There's so blamed much in life 
 that seems serious that's only a matter of uni- 
 form." 
 
 Dawson's expression was so comical that 
 Richarda laughed that seemed to satisfy 
 him ; it had made him feel shivery to see a woman 
 look so white. 
 
 41
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 But Richarda never got out of her blood the 
 memory of those moments as the great vessel 
 drew steadily nearer, until the faces of the pas- 
 sengers crowded together in the bow emerged 
 from the general blur, as in a picture slowly 
 developing upon a misty plate. 
 
 The instant came when she raised her eyes 
 she must it was no longer possible to wave 
 her handkerchief blindly, impersonally. For 
 there was Homfrey, leaning far out over the 
 rail, his hands stretched to her, his face cut 
 clear against a background of faces. 
 
 Nearer and nearer Homfrey was shouting 
 now so was everyone else the din was ap- 
 palling every whistle and horn on the river 
 had gone mad the Salvation Army contingent 
 was screaming hoarsely, " Throw out the life- 
 line " to the thunder of the drums, but no one 
 heard them, for nearer and nearer she came, this 
 white ship snatched from the sea. 
 
 Then suddenly, Richarda leaned forward; 
 the smile that little Jack knew broke over her 
 face, but her brown eyes filled with tears that 
 she held unf alien. 
 
 " Tim ! " she whispered " Tim ! " 
 
 The day that followed seemed but part of 
 the same dream a dream to which they yielded 
 42
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 themselves compelled by its charm. They were 
 youth and maiden, lover and beloved, husband 
 and wife all over again. 
 
 " Do you remember the first time I kissed 
 you ? " asked Homf rey the morning after his 
 return he had just loosed her from his arms. 
 
 " Remember? " she blushed deeply. 
 
 " Yes. Do you ? Then look at me straight. 
 No, not that way. Charda, tell me. Had a 
 man ever kissed you before ? " 
 
 There was upon him the passion of renewed 
 possession of this woman whom in marriage he 
 had proved adorable; he was jealous and proud 
 of being so. 
 
 Richarda laughed softly, but in the next mo- 
 ment she felt herself grow white; she was re- 
 membering the questions she dare not ask him 
 
 the contrast was cruel. 
 
 She had planned to tell him of Jack at once 
 
 this little boy whom she had been moved to 
 take into her home. But their first hours to- 
 gether were crowded with talk that concerned 
 Homfrey; then they discovered themselves, and 
 after that, she waited perilously upon an auspi- 
 cious moment. 
 
 Thus they reached home. Until then, Fate 
 had dangled before her the choice of a moment 
 43
 
 of revelation ; she realised when it was too late 
 that she had ignored unmistakable opportunities. 
 
 As they were about to cross the threshold, 
 Homfrey paused, and said in a voice touched 
 with emotion : " Oh, Charda, how many times 
 I thought that if I might only get back and see 
 you again just once " he broke off with a 
 laugh, and as they went in, kissed her with a 
 certain remoteness that had a sacramental grace 
 upon it. It was a renewed espousal of their 
 home life. 
 
 After he had greeted the servants and gone 
 up-stairs, Richarda loitered. " Anna, where is 
 Jack ? " she asked. 
 
 " Oh, I'm so vexed, Mrs. Homfrey. He went 
 out to walk and Nettie only just got in with him 
 she didn't know it was so late. He's nearly 
 ready you'll have him down the same as be- 
 fore, I suppose? " 
 
 She had not thought of that she felt sud- 
 denly nerveless ; exhausted, as a hunted creature ; 
 she was on the brink, looking into depths she 
 could not fathom. 
 
 Thus it happened that dinner was nearly over 
 
 when the door from the hall was pushed open 
 
 a little figure appeared upon the threshold and 
 
 paused uncertain with eyes askance upon the un- 
 
 44
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 known man. But in Richarda's face they found 
 haven. 
 
 "Oh Lady, Lady!" With a gurgle of joy 
 the child turned to her. His white suit, gay 
 with crimson sash, made brave accoutrement for 
 a figure which had an innocent regality of bear- 
 ing worthy of a little prince. He advanced a 
 step ; then waited. " Jack's here, Lady," he 
 said softly ingratiatingly. 
 
 But in that moment, Richarda's heart turned 
 traitor to him. It was not too late to repudiate 
 to explain to Homf rey that she had been 
 merely playing with a passing whim that to- 
 morrow why, the boy was nothing to her. 
 
 Happiness was her right this child should 
 not deprive her of it. She loved Tim he loved 
 her it was enough. 
 
 And for that long moment, little Jack be- 
 longed nowhere. 
 
 Perhaps some cruel intuition of his plight 
 pierced his childish heart; his lip quivered, his 
 eyes grew stormy. Suddenly he stamped his 
 elaborately bowed and buckled foot " Lady ! " 
 
 He demanded recognition. 
 
 " Jack, my poor little Jack ! " With a cry 
 Richarda flew to him gathered him into her 
 young, impetuous arms " Oh Jack, are you 
 45
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 glad Lady's home? Did you miss her? Jack, 
 have you been happy? Have you been good? " 
 
 He answered none of these things ; in the care- 
 less content of recovered joy he dragged her 
 comb from her hair. " Lady got new pretty," 
 he said approvingly, as he rubbed the stones, and 
 looked to see if the shine had come off on his 
 fingers. 
 
 " Tim " Richarda began breathlessly ; she 
 could not go on. 
 
 " Don't hurry, dear. The suspense is nearly 
 killing me, but I daresay I can hold out until 
 you put that boy down, and get your breath." 
 Homfrey calmly continued his dinner. " You're 
 a woman of moods, aren't you, Charda? This 
 is one I take it. It makes a charming comedy. 
 Place a dining-room. Time eight-thirty 
 P. M. Dramatis Persona* one husband and 
 one wife. Enter, unannounced, one child with- 
 out encumbrance. It sounds promising. When 
 you're ready, Charda but isn't that boy rather 
 heavy for you? " 
 
 But Richarda danced to the end of the long 
 room and back again. Then she put Jack into 
 a chair close to her own, and began to speak ; 
 she was honestly breathless now, as she had hoped 
 o be. " Yes, that's it, Tim. I knew you'd 
 46
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 understand. I am just that a woman of 
 moods. This isn't it a crazy one? I've had 
 him almost a month. I knew you wouldn't mind. 
 I wanted him so much." 
 
 " I see. What is home without a foundling," 
 said Homfrey grimly. " But is this all? 
 Aren't there more of him? You don't mean to 
 say that one satisfied you? Don't you think 
 he'll be lonely? Perhaps you'll adopt a grand- 
 father for him, like Mrs. Cline who said her 
 children cried for one." 
 
 Richarda laughed. " What an idea ! No, I 
 promise I won't do that. But I lead such a 
 selfish life. Dear, you know. I never do any- 
 thing for anyone. This seemed a chance. And 
 don't you think " 
 
 " No, I can't say that I do," retorted Hom- 
 frey drily. 
 
 " Oh, how stupid of me, dear. Men aren't in- 
 terested in children as children, I suppose." She 
 did not wish to call Homfrey's attention to the 
 child, but she was treading now upon such 
 treacherous surface that fear of the next step 
 unnerved her. She dreaded the explanations 
 which would be demanded of her as soon as she 
 was alone with her husband. 
 
 But to her amazement Homfrey did not pur- 
 47
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 sue the matter with her. There was reason for 
 that. The man's weariness amounted to posi- 
 tive illness ; the reaction had set in reaction 
 consequent upon weeks of the most strategic 
 legal attack he had ever conducted, followed by 
 a journey during which he had exhausted him- 
 self for the entertainment of less courageous 
 fellow-travellers, at the same time that he was 
 tormented by the thought of Richarda's inevi- 
 table anxiety about him. 
 
 For the present, the consequence merely was 
 that whenever he thought of the child, he hated 
 it, as he thought any self-respecting man would 
 hate it. To see it about the house, clinging to 
 his wife to hear her singing to it that was 
 intolerable, but he remained calm ; when he felt 
 fit he would take hold of the matter; Richarda 
 was not a pig-headed woman. 
 
 But at the end of a fortnight he was less sure 
 of some things ; from day to day he watched, 
 appalled at the hold this boy seemed to have 
 upon her. 
 
 " Say, Dawson, what would you do if your 
 wife wanted to adopt a boy? " he broke out one 
 morning in the midst of an important legal dis- 
 cussion. 
 
 " Say it again," said Dawson, " and say it 
 slow." 
 
 48
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Yes but what would you ? " 
 
 " Guess I'd adopt a girl real pretty one." 
 
 " See here, Dawson " 
 
 " I'm seeing. But situations like that be- 
 tween a man and his wife would be puzzlers for 
 Solomon in all his glory. A woman " 
 
 " I know. But my wife she's not an ordi- 
 nary woman, Dawson." 
 
 " Never met one that was, my boy. If two or 
 three of them just would be, it would give us 
 well, a kind of rule of three to work by." 
 
 "But this isn't a joke. You see, she's got 
 the boy, Dawson." 
 
 Dawson whistled. " Awkward that, isn't 
 it? Where'd she get him? " 
 
 " Don't know." 
 
 " Parents, or any trimmings like that attached 
 to him? " 
 
 " No sign of any." 
 
 Dawson mused a while. " After all, Hom- 
 frey, I'm not sure that it isn't wise for a man, 
 when he's dealing with his wife, to remember that 
 she may be a rational being from some point 
 of view that's not intelligible to him, of course. 
 Even supposing the limit that you had to keep 
 this child " 
 
 " Keep the child ! " Homfrey started, and 
 went back to his office unappeased. 
 49
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Keep that child ? in his home ? 
 
 He spent an evening, a few days later, in tell- 
 ing Richarda the story of his dealings with the 
 silent couple in Hungary, which had resulted 
 in his sailing home with all the evidence in its 
 client's favour that his firm could desire. The 
 situation between the old pair had ultimately 
 aroused an active interest in him; to understand 
 how and why this husband and wife had lived 
 together in silence for thirty years provided him 
 with a problem infinitely more intricate than the 
 legal knot he was seeking to untie. Naturally, 
 they had ended by telling him everything, at 
 first separately, and then together, until sud- 
 denly, in one breath each turned in hot speech 
 upon the other. " For a moment they stared at 
 each other like two graven images," said Hom- 
 f rey. " You see, they had broken their vow 
 never to speak again it was awfully funny 
 pathetic too. I laughed, and they had to. 
 There didn't seem to be anything else to do. 
 And that was the end of the Thirty Years' War. 
 They promised if they ever quarrelled again to 
 send for me. But they never will. They're so 
 thankful to be able to be friends again, and to 
 have me as the excuse. Isn't it absurd ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Richarda. " After all, 
 50
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 their lives have had a sort of distinction. I'm 
 not sure that it hasn't paid them. This is the 
 only big thing that ever happened to them. And 
 think what a luxury talking will be to them for 
 the rest of their days. And their position among 
 their neighbours ! fancy being pointed out as 
 the husband and wife who didn't speak for thirty 
 years. It's superb. I'm glad they're talking 
 now, but I'm so glad they didn't any sooner." 
 
 Homfrey laughed. " That's all very well, 
 but I think I would prefer less distinction and 
 more commonplace happiness. And by the way, 
 Charda that reminds me about that boy. 
 I haven't said anything about it, but I can't 
 stand it. You must send him away. He's not 
 a means of grace to me, whatever he may be to 
 you. I like you to be amused, but " 
 
 " Amused ! " the word broke from Richarda ; 
 she stood up. 
 
 " Come here, dear. Don't walk off like that." 
 Homfrey caught her drew her down to his 
 knee. " You see, dear, the child does not be- 
 long here. No family can successfully assimi- 
 late a strange graft like that. But I'm not a 
 brute. If the child is in need tell me some- 
 thing about him. Where did you get him? 
 Who are his parents ? " 
 51
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda was silent; she was looking at the 
 pattern of the rug she had never liked that 
 shade of yellow in it. 
 
 " Charda, why don't you answer me? " 
 
 " You asked about his parents yes." She 
 spoke lightly. " Dear, don't let's think about 
 them. For there's nothing to tell. Of course 
 no other woman would be as silly as I am. I'm 
 afraid I like to do queer things, Tim." 
 
 " Charda ! " 
 
 " Why yes ! I am telling you." She 
 stroked his hair with fingers that hardly touched 
 it, but she did not look at him. " It seems so 
 foolish now I hardly know how to tell you. 
 A woman asked me to take him she knew 
 nothing of me except that I was what she called 
 a * kind-hearted ' lady. I knew nothing of her 
 then, and I know nothing now. I don't even 
 know where she is. She wanted me to take him 
 because she wanted to marry a man who must 
 never know that she had the child." Richarda's 
 voice was as even as a straight line. " She had 
 heard of me through Belle Belle Austin who 
 lived with us when we were first married." 
 
 " Charda, you actually mean to say " 
 
 " Yes." She slipped off his knee and faced 
 him with a pretty gesture. " I plead guilty to 
 52
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 being the silliest, perversest woman that ever 
 stood before a judge. As soon as I knew that 
 child's mother didn't want him, I did. And I 
 shall always want him, Tim." Her tone 
 changed. " You've never said No to me yet. 
 Don't say it now. You mustn't. He's a little 
 forsaken child. You must not take him away 
 from me. He's my charge. Tim, you mustn't." 
 
 Her voice had the intensity of a cry now, for 
 Homfrey had risen, his face stern with the look 
 that she had dreaded; they stood confronting 
 each other. 
 
 Homfrey looked at her a moment then he 
 sat down and lit another cigar. 
 
 She sat down too and began poking the fire; 
 she was glad of the occupation as a refuge for 
 her trembling hands. 
 
 There was a long silence. But at last Hom- 
 frey said : " I want to be fair to you, Charda. 
 You are a woman of the noblest impulses, and 
 because of that I realised long ago that you were 
 apt to give me many surprises. But I never 
 supposed that I should be driven to question 
 your affection for me." 
 
 " Tim ! " 
 
 " I can't see it otherwise. This child disturbs 
 my feeling in regard to my home. You under- 
 53
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 stand that, and yet you persist in wishing to 
 keep him here." He had meant to argue this 
 matter as impersonally as he would a case in 
 court, but Richarda was his wife he weakened. 
 " Sweetheart " he lifted her face to his " I 
 think you don't understand marriage yet. A 
 woman loves so differently from a man " he 
 paused, for into her eyes there came a look that 
 somehow wrenched his heart, but he thought his 
 own emotion the cause of that " Well, there it 
 is. When I think of my home, that means you, 
 Charda. And now you see " he spoke as one 
 treading carefully " into my home, sacred to 
 me as your shrine, you bring an alien element 
 a child in no way kin to you or to me not 
 even honourably " 
 
 " Don't, Tim ! " 
 
 " But I must." He spoke firmly. " You say 
 you know nothing of the mother. Did she tell 
 you nothing of the father? " 
 
 " I didn't ask to know anything." 
 
 " Charda ! And yet you take this boy into 
 your home you make him as your own child, 
 and you know nothing as to the woman who hap- 
 pened to be his mother except the fact of the 
 boy, and when it comes to the question of a 
 father well, the father of this boy, I sup- 
 pose "
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She was on her feet, her hands gripped to- 
 gether. 
 
 " No, I don't know. And I don't want to 
 know. What have I to do with things like that? 
 All I do know, and all I ever will know is that 
 little Jack came to me I didn't seek him, 
 Tim " her voice quivered " but now he is 
 mine, my charge, my responsibility. I can't es- 
 cape that it has been laid upon me. He is 
 mine to stand for, and I will never give him up. 
 If I could " the tears were in her eyes "it 
 would be no proof of my love for you, Tim." 
 For a moment she could not speak; then she 
 added : " That little child has been laid upon 
 me, because he was forsaken, and I took him in. 
 I will not cast him out." 
 
 Homfrey tossed his cigar into the fire; then 
 he waited, turning his hands to the warmth of 
 the blaze; the long, delicate fingers expressed a 
 passion that was not revealed in his face. Yet 
 when he spoke his voice was calm. " Very well, 
 Charda. You will keep the child. I see that. 
 I see that it is quite useless for me to meet you 
 either with argument or entreaty. There is 
 however just one point I should like to suggest. 
 Does it not occur to you that we might yet have 
 a child of our own? " 
 
 55
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Her eyes went away from his. 
 
 " Have you thought of that ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh, you have ! And yet you would like to 
 bring up your child my child " Homf rey's 
 voice hardened " in the same home, on the 
 same footing with this child, the son of an aban- 
 doned girl, and of a father well, there it is ! 
 Perhaps it is just as well for your peace of mind 
 that you know as little as you do of him." 
 Homf rey laughed sarcastically ; he was not look- 
 ing at Richarda ; he did not see her shrink. 
 " But it's interesting blood, isn't it? " he asked 
 in a carefully restrained tone " to bring into 
 our home. And blood has a way of telling in 
 the long run a way that is sometimes full of 
 surprises. It is not certain that environment 
 can do all that you expect of it. Some day, in 
 spite of all that you may have done for him, the 
 weakness of his mother, the viciousness of his 
 father" 
 
 " Wait ! " said Richarda she was looking at 
 him, and there was that strange expression again 
 that expression which baffled him ; " I deny 
 anything evil in Jack. It is all good. And he 
 will be good. He will not be able to escape 
 that." 
 
 56
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Homfrey got up and went slowly towards her. 
 " Charda, there is something here that I do not 
 understand. And I must understand. I must 
 know why you have taken the case of this child 
 so extraordinarily to heart ! " 
 
 There seemed no way of escape for a mo- 
 ment she faced the horror of telling him the 
 truth she faced the unutterable degradation 
 to him and to her of admitting him to that 
 ruined sanctuary of her faith where she had be- 
 gun again a pitiful upbuilding of her dreams. 
 
 But in the instant that she felt her weakness 
 most great, she grew strong; she looked up at 
 Homfrey unafraid. " You must trust me, Tim. 
 I have told you just how that child came to me. 
 Perhaps at any other time it would not 
 have affected me so. But it seemed that just 
 now it was the time for me to do a thing 
 like this. I did not want to do it. I can be a 
 hard, selfish woman. But I must not be that 
 now. Because Oh Tim, don't you under- 
 stand? " 
 
 He looked at her bewildered her eyes were 
 like stars. 
 
 " Charda, what is it? No, I don't know. I 
 don't understand." 
 
 Her voice hardly reached him : " Because 
 for my child, for yours, Tim " 
 57
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Charda ! " He bent over her, his heart in 
 a sudden tumult of tenderness of which he hardly 
 understood the meaning; the passion he had 
 known by the name of Love rose in that moment 
 to heights he had never suspected within him- 
 self. 
 
 Her hands crept, fluttering, to his ; he put his 
 arms about her with a gesture all-protecting, but 
 he did not kiss her something held him apart 
 from her. 
 
 "Don't you see?" she whispered at last 
 " It's because my child your child will have 
 me and you and this other if I fail him, 
 perhaps my child will have to stand alone some 
 day suppose there was no one to help him. 
 You must let me be good, Tim, in my own queer 
 way. Don't try to understand me. You never 
 could. But never say to me again that I don't 
 love you. Because " 
 
 " Charda ! " he cried, beside himself " Don't 
 look at me like that. I can't bear it. My 
 darling " he bent and kissed her, for now he 
 must. 
 
 But in the days of strange dismay that fol- 
 lowed for Richarda she owned to herself, that 
 deep beneath all her subterfuges beneath all 
 the glamour of pose and self-deception, there 
 58
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 had been fixed in her the belief that Homfrey 
 could not fail to discover from her the truth 
 about the child. He must discover it ; it was an 
 outrage against her that he should not. 
 
 Yet the days passed, and she remained silent. 
 
 But that could not endure. 
 
 She waited, in anticipatory hope and dread 
 of some sudden crisis which should set her free 
 of her secret. 
 
 59
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 Young Richard Homfrey was born the follow- 
 ing June; for several days after his arrival it 
 seemed doubtful whether his mother would live 
 to know of the event. And when the actual 
 crisis was passed, a dangerous torpor settled 
 upon her; day after day she lay silent, with her 
 eyes " full of nothing " the nurse said. Even 
 the baby failed to stir her, though when she first 
 felt its lips at her breast she shivered and turned 
 her face from it. 
 
 " Bring its cradle in here, and wash it and 
 dress it here," the doctor said sharply. " The 
 noise ? that's what I want. The more it cries 
 the better." 
 
 But Richarda merely bore its presence in her 
 room patiently, though once she asked with wan 
 apprehensiveness : " Do they always cry like 
 that? " 
 
 She had not yet related the child to herself. 
 
 When she heard it cry no dart pierced her heart 
 
 because it was her child who cried. It belonged 
 
 as yet to that part of a woman's life which she 
 
 60
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 had determined to ignore that part involved 
 with the problem called Love a problem in 
 which she had no interest. 
 
 Yet Richarda was thinking as she lay there, 
 with her eyes, to the nurse's ken, so " full of 
 nothing." She was thinking what a strange 
 place the world was for a woman of her sort to 
 be in. She felt herself sick of the disease of 
 life, for there seemed to her to be no meaning in 
 her suffering. Purity, impurity love, lust 
 there was no clear line of division between the 
 one and the other. 
 
 The experience through which she had just 
 gone was like a nightmare in her memory, yet it 
 was one which was supposed to glorify a woman 
 and set halo of Madonna about her head. But 
 what was there in pain pain that tortured, 
 maddened, that cried at last aloud upon the bit- 
 ten lips what was there in that that dignified, 
 ennobled ? 
 
 How horrified these people about her would be 
 if they should hear her talk as she was thinking ! 
 But she was sorry for that baby it had come 
 into a world of artifice and subterfuge. 
 
 " Poor little child," she said one day as she 
 looked at it, " You came because you had to 
 come, I suppose. You and I couldn't help that. 
 It's part of the puzzle." 
 61
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 But these were merely Richarda's superficial 
 thoughts underneath, something was raging 
 of which she was afraid as she lay so still, her 
 soft brown eyes so dense. 
 
 This then, was the experience that girl had 
 gone through, alone, dishonoured. 
 
 This was the burden the woman had, through 
 all time, carried for the sake of the man. 
 
 " Bring me a Bible," she said unexpectedly to 
 the nurse. " No, I don't know just where you 
 will find one. You had better ask Anna she's 
 religious, I think." 
 
 Yet when she had it she let it lie for a long 
 time unopened. Then she took it up, and 
 turned to the book of Genesis ; she wanted to see 
 just what sort of curse it was that had been 
 pronounced upon man and woman. 
 
 She sighed, as she laid it down; after a long 
 silence she said to the nurse : " The man who 
 wrote that understood some things very well." 
 
 " I suppose so," said the woman vaguely ; she 
 was disquieted by an impression that there was 
 something not exactly pious in her patient's re- 
 mark. She leaned over to take the book away, 
 but Richarda put her hand on it. " You may 
 leave it," she said. But when she was once more 
 alone Richarda picked up the book and dropped 
 62
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 it to the floor. The whole scheme of things was 
 on trial in her mind as a system of protection 
 for the man. 
 
 When Homfrey came into the room, and hung 
 over the child and her, tender, adoring, it 
 took all her tensest powers of self-control to lie 
 there, acquiescent to his touch, the while her 
 soul, white-hot, called his to judgment. 
 
 Children ! the world was full of them ; be- 
 cause men loved them? 
 
 The horror of it that she should have come 
 
 to the asking of questions such as these she, 
 
 who had entered so light of heart upon the rose- 
 leaf path of marriage, as innocent as the babe at 
 her breast. And she was young she wanted 
 happiness, the happiness that needed no fine spin- 
 ning of spiritual definition love, laughter, 
 caresses, the pretty pleasures of life. And in- 
 stead, the Book of Fate had opened, and revealed 
 to her this way of thorn and tear. 
 
 Unknowing, she was struggling with the bit- 
 ter mystery of vicarious sacrifice. Day after 
 day, the cry was upon her lips : If it be pos- 
 sible let this cup pass from me; she would have 
 scoffed had she been charged with belief in the 
 doctrine of the Lamb of God slain for the sins 
 of the world, yet she had entered upon the liv- 
 63
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ing out of that mystery in her own experience. 
 But of this she had as yet no knowledge. 
 
 She grew more and more nervous ; each day 
 she said less, for the thing she was afraid of say- 
 ing waited upon the edge of her lips ; some time 
 when she was not watching she would cry aloud. 
 There was a terrible fascination in the sound of 
 it: Tim, did you know that Jack is your little 
 boy? 
 
 Sometimes she awoke with a start in the mid- 
 dle of the night, with the feeling that the words 
 were staring at her from the darkness where 
 someone had uttered them aloud ; it was little 
 wonder that her convalescence was a matter of 
 uncertainty. 
 
 When Homf rey was with her, her torture was 
 greatest ; then, like little demons, those scorching 
 words danced wickedly upon her parched im- 
 agination : Tim Jack Your little boy 
 nearer and nearer they whirled until her fear be- 
 came at times so unendurable that she slipped in- 
 to unconsciousness. 
 
 But she was not to escape. One evening as 
 Homfrey sat reading beside her, his hand close 
 over hers, she began suddenly to sob. " Don't 
 let me speak, Tim! Don't! Don't let me 
 speak. Hold me tight I'm so afraid. Tim, 
 64
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 I mustn't I mustn't. Don't listen Oh 
 Tim, don't listen." 
 
 It was a cry agonising to hear; in terror he 
 gathered her into his arms. She was fighting 
 some force that seemed to tear her she held 
 her thin hand over her lips her eyes were wide 
 and dark. When at last he laid her down she 
 was appallingly quiet ; the soft rings of her hair 
 were wet. 
 
 She was hysterical, the doctor said frowning. 
 In her weak condition that was inevitable; as 
 soon as possible they must get her away 
 this kind of thing would never do. 
 
 But Richarda knew she could never be 
 " got away " from this. 
 
 " By the way, Dawson, I wish you'd come over 
 to see my wife," said Homfrey a few days latter. 
 " She likes you and she hasn't seen a soul yet. 
 We've been afraid to let her, but I'm getting 
 more afraid of not letting her." 
 
 " All right, my boy. I don't blame her for 
 getting the blues if you've been keeping her shut 
 up to the society of a baby all this time. I never 
 could understand how women stand so much of 
 that. Marriage must be full of disconcerting 
 surprises for a woman. Still, it's kind of hard 
 on a man too. I remember what a blow it was to 
 65
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 me I had been sailing on the sea of matri- 
 monial bliss about three weeks when I went home 
 one night and said to my wife with all the as- 
 surance of faith : " Give me the paper, dear." 
 And she just looked up at me: "Yes, dear, 
 presently, when I'm through with it." 
 
 " Lord ! I knew on the spot that marriage 
 was a darn swindle. I said : " Sarah! " but 
 she kept right on. I went out and got my 
 spade we'd been playing that we were spend- 
 ing our honeymoon making a garden and 
 gave the incipient vegetables such an oration on 
 the subject of marriage as a man-trap, as would 
 have made my reputation if I'd only been on the 
 platform instead of in the potato-patch." 
 
 Homfrey laughed; he enjoyed Dawson's ex- 
 hibitions of himself as an example of domestic 
 depravity ; no man was safer from misunder- 
 standing. As the office scrub-woman had said 
 in an awed whisper only the day before : " Mr. 
 Dawson, Sir? Why, I guess he's most as good 
 as God." 
 
 When Dawson walked lightly into Richarda's 
 room, his face wore its usual easy smile a 
 smile which held its place in spite of the pang 
 he felt when he saw how pitifully thin and white 
 she was. " Homfrey told you that last esca- 
 66
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 pade of old Whitmarsh's ? " he asked casually 
 as he shook hands with her. " Is that a baby ? 
 Bless my soul ! doesn't it make you feel queer 
 to think you'd never be able to pick it out if 
 it got mixed up with a dozen others? That's 
 what I always think when I see other people's 
 babies. Better tag this fellow there's a dif- 
 ference in tags if not in babies." 
 
 Richarda smiled a faint little ghost of a 
 smile. 
 
 " Well, about old Whitmarsh, now. You see 
 he was at the play the other night with his son 
 he doesn't go very often he's been a mil- 
 lion-maker so long he'd be apt to sit there figur- 
 ing out what the price of his seat would be worth 
 if he'd put the money into Shark's Tooth and 
 then worked the proposition his way. But this 
 time he really was there, squandering money 
 like a man on a thousand a year, and by and by, 
 his son who'd been waiting his chance, said care- 
 fully : ' See that girl in the chorus, third to 
 the left?' You bet old Whitmarsh had. 
 ' We're thinking of getting married,' said 
 Sammy Junior, ' but we thought we'd like you 
 to know about it first.' ' I see. Yes, that's 
 quite a girl, my son.' 
 
 " Now it seems strange, doesn't it ? that any 
 67
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 son of old Whitmarsh's should have been inno- 
 cent enough to let the old boy get wind of the 
 proposition. For Samuel Senior had never, 
 since he was born, heard of anybody wanting 
 anything without immediately beginning to 
 want it himself. The natural upshot in this 
 instance was that when young Samuel went home 
 to dinner a few evenings later, Mrs. Samuel Sen- 
 ior met him at the door and said : ' Oh Sammy, 
 let me be a mother to you !' 
 
 " And now old Whitmarsh is a disgusting 
 sight. He's all over the place with her, with a 
 Behold Me and the Bride that is Mine air that's 
 positively nauseating." 
 
 The two men laughed and talked lightly, in- 
 tent upon amusing Richarda without making 
 any demand upon her. 
 
 She lay there, content. It was good to hear 
 Dawson's voice again ; one naturally trusted 
 Dawson. Trusted she hated that word ; she 
 shut her eyes wearily the simplest thought 
 was full of unhappy suggestion to her. 
 
 When she opened them again, there, close to 
 her bed, little Jack stood in his long white night- 
 gown quite still. When his eyes met hers 
 his figure straightened his tangled head lifted 
 there was a quick flame of anger in his face. 
 68
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Lady not want Jack any more," he said in 
 loud, accusing tones. " Lady got new little 
 boy. Go away, Jack go away ! " He 
 turned upon himself, and beat his breast with 
 passionate hands. 
 
 With a hot exclamation Homfrey started 
 from his seat; he would have swept the child 
 like chaff from the room. But Dawson's hand 
 upon his arm held him. " Leave them alone, 
 Tim," he said quietly. For he had seen the 
 look in Richarda's eyes. 
 
 " Oh Jack," she murmured in tender mother- 
 tone " Come here, Jack. See up here, be- 
 side me." 
 
 But the child held back. He was struggling 
 against his tears now, for at the sound of her 
 faint voice his anger had vanished this was 
 his own " Lady " she had not forgotten him. 
 And yet Nettie had said 
 
 " Ah ! " It was Nettie's voice at the door, 
 suppressed in wrath ; her charge had escaped 
 her at the worst possible moment, considering 
 Homfrey 's stringent admonitions. 
 
 But Dawson motioned her away, and even 
 
 Homfrey, to whom she directed an appealing 
 
 eye-brow, affirmed her dismissal. For the child 
 
 was beside Richarda on the bed now ; she had her 
 
 69
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 arms around him and the colour had come into 
 her face. She was whispering to him those 
 happy nothings which were balm to his wounded 
 heart. 
 
 By and by, Homfrey and Dawson slipped 
 silently down-stairs, for Richarda had fallen 
 asleep, and the child lay cuddled close to her, 
 his moist little hand fast in hers. 
 
 And yet, not once during her illness, had 
 she asked to see Jack; that had been a thought 
 full of comfort to Homfrey. In time, he ar- 
 gued, she would realise that her love for her 
 own child must necessarily exclude the indul- 
 gence of such an impulse as the harbouring of 
 this alien, however generous it might be. Heaven 
 only knew what a misery it had been to him to 
 have to endure the boy in the house all these 
 months, but he had believed the reward of his 
 tolerance nigh. 
 
 But if Richarda had not asked to see Jack, 
 it was not because her thoughts were stilled in 
 regard to him they were in tumult. She had 
 wished with all her soul that Homfrey would 
 send him away while he had the opportunity, 
 without ever again mentioning him to her; day 
 after day she stormed to herself in the silence 
 that she never wanted to see him again that 
 70
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 she never would ; she demanded, of whom she 
 knew not, that her responsibility for him should 
 be ended. Once when she heard his voice in the 
 distance, she took her bit of a handkerchief and 
 tore it into wicked looking shreds she was 
 glad to be cruel to something. 
 
 And yet this time came, when little Jack's 
 head was pillowed once more upon her arm. For 
 the eternal mystery of love worked its miracle 
 anew in her heart. When she looked and saw 
 the pathetic figure and heard the angry cry of 
 desolation, all that was noblest in her nature 
 rose as if in response to a heavenly call. She 
 looked, and there was Tim's child, alone, again 
 forsaken ; it was to her as if she had turned 
 her soul against Tim in his greatest need. 
 
 But it was not until long afterwards that she 
 understood that affection for her own child had 
 been denied to her until she opened her heart 
 again to this impulse which seemed on the face 
 of it, fantastic and unwarrantable. 
 
 Late that night Homfrey came in on careful 
 foot, and looked at them together; his thoughts 
 were very bitter. It was no use he must give 
 up hoping that her mood towards this child 
 would change. The whole thing was beyond his 
 comprehension, but the fact was as it was, and 
 71
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 so he must accept it. As a dispenser of legal 
 advice he came into closest mental contact with 
 men and women who refused, with every variety 
 of obstinacy, to accept the inevitable fact. He 
 listened to them often, touched with contempt 
 for his kind, but he was far too keen to be 
 misled into believing that because he saw the 
 follies of his clients, he himself was free from 
 taint of them. He knew as none other did, that 
 inner Homfrey, who watched appreciative of its 
 artistic merit the public performance of the 
 outer Homfrey, who did a good act, or a bad 
 one; who was swayed one moment by a weak- 
 ness, and uplifted the next by a divine impulse ; 
 who was as God now, and as the Devil then. 
 
 The Great Play fascinated him ; he loved to 
 feel beneath his touch a client whose flimsy 
 frailties of character he manipulated at his will, 
 for he would go through life lightly, and these 
 experiences added to its drollery. He did not 
 ignore its tragedies, but they were so often 
 merely comedies acted backward. And even 
 when they came in all their royal purple of heart- 
 break and disaster, they were, if rightly under- 
 stood, but as the ultimate beauty of the discord- 
 ant note which obscured for the moment the 
 splendour of the climax towards which the music 
 72
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 strove. The real tragedies of life were rooted 
 in the torment of those questions which had 
 descended from one generation to another un- 
 answered, unanswerable forever persistent in 
 the soul of man. But life would be a dull spec- 
 tacle without them. 
 
 It was because of them that a man must 
 laugh. 
 
 Homfrey had married Richarda with his eyes 
 wide open with no special pre-determination 
 of loyalty towards her. That would be as it 
 happened; the man who pledged himself to be 
 faithful to a woman " until death do us part " 
 was a fool if he fancied that he did so without 
 inevitable reservation. 
 
 He had married Richarda because he adored 
 her, because through her he had sounded the 
 gamut of the lover's emotions. It was the great 
 experience; he had feared quite frankly, as he 
 saw one ideal after another taking flight, that 
 it was not for him. He was a fastidious man, 
 and he had looked with a disgust that left noth- 
 ing unprobed, into the gulfs where he had 
 watched one associate after another sink. He 
 had gone to many a wedding, and wondered 
 what the effect would be if he should tell the 
 bride what he knew of the man at her side. 
 73
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Probably nothing in nine cases out of ten, be- 
 cause the girl, for financial reasons or others, 
 required a bridegroom ; up here at the altar or 
 down there in the gulfs human nature was of 
 the same substance; the apparent difference was 
 largely a matter of veneer. 
 
 Homfrey was fastidious, therefore not 
 tempted in the common way. There were cer- 
 tain episodes of his youth that he remembered 
 with distaste, but he remembered too, that posi- 
 tive control of a temperament like his was a 
 matter of patience and experience. His bril- 
 liant imagination, which would have made of 
 picturesque intensity the dullest life in which his 
 lot might have been cast, spared him nothing 
 when he came to the question of the woman ; the 
 fabric of his dreams was infinitely more dan- 
 gerous in the subtlety of its tempting to this 
 man, than the flesh and blood coveted by men 
 whose souls perished in the gulfs into whose 
 foul depths he had looked only to loathe. 
 
 As to marriage, he had argued that a man 
 had surely nothing to gain by 'it in return for 
 what he would lose; he scoffed at the idea of 
 such thrall for himself. He loved his kind as 
 an artist his model, and it merely amused him 
 to picture himself pledged to the study of one 
 74
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 type " so long as ye both shall live." There 
 had been several women whom it would have in- 
 terested him to marry, but in each case he had 
 decided to preserve his devotion in a state of 
 casuistical inconclusiveness ; however free he 
 might be determined to feel himself, he would 
 inevitably be hampered by marriage in the ac- 
 quiring of those new experiences which were 
 always in wait for him. 
 
 He was a man so much sought after, to whom 
 so much was offered, that it would not have been 
 strange had he, especially when alone with men, 
 paraded the air of exhausted cynicism regard- 
 ing women apt to be the pose of the type of 
 man he was commonly considered to be. He 
 never had. He could have made the stories of 
 most men look small, but that would have been 
 at the expense of some woman ; a quixotic sense 
 of honour held him silent. For men and wo- 
 men alike were caught in the same great net, and 
 were victims of one flesh and one blood ; the ass 
 who brayed loudly that woman was this or that, 
 but called attention to the length of his ears. 
 The son of the mother the daughter of the 
 father in the veins of each ran the mighty 
 current which was life, and neither male nor 
 female. 
 
 75
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 So Homfrey philosophised and went his way 
 serene, until one night there shone in, through 
 the fog of all his theorising, a star unknown to 
 him the face of Richarda ; and the heavens 
 and the earth were new created for him. 
 
 Yet, true to his temperament, he analysed 
 himself as lover with a completeness of detach- 
 ment that left no weakness unnoted, no mystery 
 in his heart, so far as he had sight, unscanned. 
 
 She was the one woman in a whole world of 
 women ! he thrilled at the sound of her name 
 on his lips. 
 
 The one woman? For how long? who 
 should say? 
 
 That was for them together to prove. " Love 
 the most delusive, the most cruel, the most 
 unstable, the least pure experience the heart of 
 man can know " so he wrote to Dawson on his 
 wedding morning. 
 
 He was posing of course. He never, con- 
 sciously, did anything else. It was his perpet- 
 ual change of pose that gave the dash of red 
 he loved in his life. 
 
 To explain all this to Richarda, would have 
 
 been, from his point of view, most evilly to mar 
 
 the bloom for which, in her, clear vision of life 
 
 as it was, would be no compensation. There 
 
 76
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 were thoughts which were his as a matter of 
 course, but which were not for her. In the same 
 way, there were dark spots in his life from 
 knowledge of which it was as much his duty to 
 protect her, as from a blow. For she was the 
 woman he loved. 
 
 And at the end of two years, she was still the 
 woman he loved. " And behold I shew you a 
 mystery " he remembered that now as the be- 
 ginning of a verse his grandmother had taught 
 him in those petticoated days when he had re- 
 cited his Sunday texts with an unctuousness of 
 inflection which gave her high faith as to the 
 calling that should be his. 
 
 But the mystery as it confronted him now 
 was not the ancient elusive mystery of immor- 
 tality caught by the hem of its heavenly gar- 
 ment in the iron-handed grasp of theological 
 dogma it was that of mortality of man 
 and his heart, forever changing, forever un- 
 changed. 
 
 Upstairs, the child cried suddenly. Homfrey 
 breathed deep ; his lips tightened ; the whole boy- 
 ish figure braced itself unconsciously. 
 
 " My boy ! " 
 
 77
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 The years of Jack's childhood seemed to Ri- 
 charda afterwards to have passed in a dream. 
 They were quiet years, marked principally by 
 Homfrey's steady advance in professional posi- 
 tion ; the home life was undoubtedly " happy " 
 in that it proceeded without friction ; the petty 
 irritations of ordinary domestic felicity were un- 
 known to Homfrey. It was not to be expected 
 that he should comprehend the skill needed to 
 produce results that appeared inevitable. He 
 said once to Dawson that other women could 
 surely manage as Richarda did, if they spent as 
 much time on their hom.es as on their clubs and 
 kindred outside interests. 
 
 " Oh no, they couldn't," said Dawson. " Be- 
 cause if they could they would." 
 
 " I daresay," said Homfrey slowly ; he was 
 thinking what a difference there must be between 
 his emotions and Dawson's as evidenced by the 
 difference between the women they had married. 
 
 The children grew apace, little Dick becom- 
 ing the inseparable playmate of Jack. There 
 78
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 came a time when Homfrey resented less, per- 
 haps, the infliction of this strange child upon 
 his home life, because he recognised the neces- 
 sity of suitable companionship for Dick, and 
 like every other parent he was doubtful of the 
 moral qualities of the " boy next door." He 
 was still convinced that in time, in spite of all 
 that Richarda might do for him, Jack's blood 
 would tell heavily against him, but at present, 
 under the best and most protective influences, 
 he was probably as good a companion as Dick 
 could have. The devotion of the older boy to 
 the younger was beyond question. 
 
 It was natural that the baby Dick should 
 accept Jack as an inevitable part of his world, 
 but Richarda never made any attempt to place 
 the association of the two children in one home 
 on a fraternal basis. At first, in spite of the 
 difference in their ages, they played together 
 with the same toys, but as they grew older, she 
 imperceptibly directed their energies into dis- 
 tinct channels. It was the one concession she 
 could make to Homfrey, and one that she was 
 able to make owing to the great difference in 
 the temperaments of the boys each seemed 
 able to do best what was quite impossible to the 
 other. While Jack sat content with pencil and 
 79
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 paper, unconsciously wooing the dreams which 
 as yet he had no power to express, young Dick 
 risked his limbs in a variety of athletic experi- 
 ments which were a horror to behold. But each 
 thought the other a marvel there never were 
 such stories as Jack's, and there never was a 
 boy who could do with hammer and nails what 
 Dick could do. 
 
 As Richarda watched other mothers with their 
 boys, she saw how little was accomplished by 
 the woman who ranked herself towards her chil- 
 dren as private detective, and who never will- 
 ingly gave them the right of choice. As Jack 
 grew older, he felt little temptation to deceive 
 Lady when she said gravely : " Jack, I think 
 you want to do something that is all wrong. 
 But perhaps is isn't, and I want you to go on 
 and do exactly as you wish, and some day you 
 can tell me what you think about it." 
 
 This method sometimes required not only 
 courage and patience, but also a fine sense of 
 humour. There were moments of crisis in deal- 
 ing with her boys when Richarda, unable to do 
 anything else, just laughed. And it not in- 
 frequently seemed as if, judging by results, a 
 laugh was quite as efficacious as a prayer. Why 
 take a boy seriously when you could take him 
 humorously ? 
 
 80
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She was often amused by the strain of pater- 
 nalism in Jack's guardianship of Dick. 
 " Lady," he said severely one day, " you ought 
 not to allow Dick to go swimming with the Mc- 
 Carthy boys." 
 
 "Shouldn't I?" 
 
 " No. Of course you shouldn't. He'll 
 knock his brains out diving, or do something 
 else. You're not bringing Dick up right. You 
 let him do all kinds of things you never let me 
 do." 
 
 " But I don't remember that you ever wanted 
 to go swimming with the McCarthy boys." 
 Richarda's eyes were grave, but a dimple ap- 
 peared suspiciously at the side of her chin. 
 
 " Oh, then if I had wanted to, you would have 
 let me? " 
 
 " Why, of course." She was smiling now. 
 " I've always thought water was about the sa- 
 fest kind of thing you could put a boy into, if 
 he's any kind of a boy. You see, Jack, a wo- 
 man is apt to be afraid to let her boy do any- 
 thing that she can't do. I've tried to avoid 
 that. But it was easier with you than with 
 Dick, because he will always be wanting to do 
 fearful things that terrify me. But so far as 
 I possibly can, I must let him do them, because 
 81
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 I am sure that he is far safer doing the danger- 
 ous thing with my consent and sympathy than 
 without it. And you can understand that with 
 a boy of Dick's adventurous spirit it might come 
 to that." 
 
 Jack nodded ; he felt himself taken into Lady's 
 confidence; now that he understood the philoso- 
 phy of her action, he approved. 
 
 " Well Lady, it's a lucky thing for Dick and 
 me that you have so much more commonsense 
 than most women," he said gravely. The dim- 
 ple re-appeared in Richarda's chin. But then 
 Jack was always a delightful person. 
 
 Thus the years slipped by until the time came 
 when Jack was soon to enter college, and just 
 as this impending change in the home life was 
 monopolising Richarda's thoughts, an old friend 
 of her school days stopped for a brief visit on 
 her way from Paris to San Francisco. Cir- 
 cumstances had separated them and their inter- 
 ests widely ; each was curious to judge the meas- 
 ure of change in the other. 
 
 " Yes, I've been married two years," said Hat- 
 tie Lewin as they sat comparing notes the morn- 
 ing after her arrival. " And out of that two 
 years how many months do you suppose I have 
 spent under Tommy Lewin's roof? " 
 82
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda saw that she was not expected to an- 
 swer. 
 
 " Well, my dear, I won't shock you by telling 
 you too abruptly. But I'm going to spend a 
 month with him now." 
 
 " A month ? " Richarda's tone was incredu- 
 lous. 
 
 Mrs. Lewin laughed. " Yes. For one 
 month I shall be an angel of light in Tommy 
 Lewin's life we shall kowtow gracefully at 
 each other, then I shall shake his honest hand of 
 toil and kiss him impartially on both sides of 
 his moustache Charda, could you have be- 
 lieved it in me to marry a man with a mous- 
 tache ? and I shall say fervently : ' Mizpah 
 Tommy ! ' and depart me in peace to the old 
 place at Deerwood, and there I shall abide until 
 I go next time to Paris. 
 
 " This is my ideal of married life and I have 
 taught Tommy to see that it is his. Consider- 
 ing the mother-in-law that is mine, Tommy made 
 a crude mistake in ever getting married at all. 
 I hadn't been a bride in their house a week be- 
 fore I quite understood that I was an interloper, 
 and that I disturbed Mrs. Lewin's point of view. 
 Naturally, the situation being new, and possibly 
 disturbing to me also, I was at a loss for a long 
 83
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 time just how to deal with it. But my sym- 
 pathies from the start were all with Mrs. Lewin, 
 if she could only have brought herself to see it. 
 I said at last : ' Tommy, really now, what did 
 you get married for?' and of course he 
 couldn't give me any good and sufficient reason. 
 He weakly murmured things about my having 
 been such a stunning girl and all that, but I 
 pointed out to him that with his age and expe- 
 rience he should have been proof against my 
 trivial attractions." 
 
 " But why did you marry him ? " 
 
 " My dear! there was every good and suffi- 
 cient reason why I should marry him. There 
 were the five Chester girls with just one invalid 
 poor-as-a-church-mouse father at their backs. 
 It had come to be a case of sink or swim, and 
 when Tommy's hull appeared on the horizon I 
 swam to meet him with all the power I pos- 
 sessed. And see the result! Each time I've 
 gone abroad I've taken a Chester girl with me, 
 and brought her back engaged. There's only 
 Lilla left, and I tell the other girls they can do 
 for her. They call me The General. Oh, I 
 have my sphere of usefulness." 
 
 " I see you have, but Hattie " 
 
 " Oh, it isn't worth being serious over, my 
 84
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 dear. I was inclined to be at first. Then I 
 saw that wouldn't do you just remember that 
 if you find yourself everlastingly serious about 
 something, it's because you've let your point 
 of view get the upper hand of you, and you're 
 able to see only one side of the matter. You 
 can't be serious if you see the other sides it's 
 always too funny. Well, I cast up the situation 
 judicially. I said: Here is Tommy Lewin, 
 and there is his mother, who has lived with him 
 ever since he was born. Why shouldn't they 
 understand each other better, being of the same 
 blood, than I can ever hope to understand either 
 of them? Marriage is merely a make-shift 
 you needn't shake your head like that, Richarda, 
 I know it's a harrowing discovery for a wo- 
 man to make, but it's true, so why dodge it? 
 Some women never find that out, I know 
 Well, that's so much to the good for them. But 
 I had to, and I brought order out of chaos by 
 inventing the profession of visiting wife. I 
 go to see Tommy every six months and stay 
 with him one. I let none of my giddy pleasures 
 interfere with my strict adherence to this duty. 
 The scheme works admirably. I'm treated like 
 a gilt-edged guest. Tommy receives me with 
 open arms and parts from me in tears. My sal- 
 85
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ary for two months' devotion is princely no 
 wife of the ordinary species is worth so much to 
 any man. And Tommy feels very proud of us 
 as an unusual pair." 
 
 " Hattie ! " said Richarda simply. 
 
 " My dear, don't ! You couldn't prove to me 
 that I haven't been a very wise woman. Tommy 
 thinks so certainly. Last year he bought back 
 Father's old place at Deerwood for me wasn't 
 that delicate of him ? " 
 
 " Very," said Richarda, absently. " But, 
 Hattie " 
 
 " No dear, not in that tone of voice. Besides 
 I don't want to talk any more about my own 
 affairs. I want you to tell me about this boy. 
 I'm dying to know all about him." 
 
 For Jack was coming swiftly across the grass, 
 a tall boy of seventeen, who carried himself with 
 an air apt to make one turn as he passed. It 
 seemed to challenge the attention to which he 
 appeared indifferent; had it not been for the 
 grace which went with it, a first impression 
 might not have been of unqualified admiration. 
 
 He threw himself and his books down beside 
 Richarda with a gay whoop of relief. 
 
 " Well, how to-day ? " She laid her hand for 
 a moment on the dark head. 
 86
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Oh, great, Lady simply great ! Old 
 Emory said I was born knowing Greek." He 
 threw her a whimsical look. " But we know 
 better than that." 
 
 To Hattie Lewin, watching, the comradeship 
 between them seemed unique she must know 
 all about it. But Richarda rose hastily ; she saw 
 her husband coming, and crossed the lawn to 
 meet him. And Jack slipped away he had a 
 habit of being elsewhere when Homfrey was 
 about. 
 
 That evening Dawson dropped in. " My 
 wife's down in Missouri," he explained. " Her 
 mother's broken her arm and she's gone to see 
 that it isn't set on the bias. She took along 
 with her all the children that it's legal to travel 
 with on one fare, and I feel pretty lonesome 
 with the broken half-dozen that's left. I say, 
 Homfrey, did you see that fellow Chancy when 
 he was in the office this morning ? " 
 
 " I never do see him since I got through that 
 Campau Commission. You couldn't make me 
 look his way. That fellow offered the cheapest 
 set of brains I ever was asked to co-operate 
 with." 
 
 " 'Tisn't all cakes and ale being a regent for 
 Waverley," explained Dawson to Richarda. 
 87
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " I'll be out next year and I shan't be sorry. 
 This cuss Chancy sneaked in this morning with 
 a fresh little scheme for poisoning 1 my mind 
 against the man who is head of the philosophical 
 department out there fellow called Maxwell 
 Scotchman I voted for him for the place 
 because I thought from what I heard about him 
 that he was pretty sure to stir things up in that 
 dead-and-alive department. And he everlast- 
 ingly has. He's got all the little men down 
 on him, which is always a valuable sign they 
 say he is as destructive in his teaching as a 
 Gatling gun, so all is well. But Chaney 
 Chaney's head of the English department, and 
 he has a little scheme destined ultimately to 
 oust Maxwell, and elevate to his place some pious 
 ignoramus who probably knows as much about 
 philosophy as an oyster does of photography. 
 I lit into Chaney for all I was worth. When I 
 got through, he gasped : ' Why, Mr. Dawson, 
 you talk to me as if I was the worst man ' 
 You know his squeal, Homfrey. ' Lord No ! ' 
 I said. ' I never look at you without wonder- 
 ing how you come to be as decent as you are.' 
 " He said, ' Good-morning,' and went out 
 with the hymn-book-in-one-hand-and-Bible-in- 
 the-other air that always makes me want to kick 
 him." 
 
 88
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Still, viewed without prejudice, Chancy is 
 an absolutely consistent specimen of a mean 
 man," said Homfrey. " He is a work of art 
 a perfect example of his species and there- 
 for admirable, had we sufficient broadminded- 
 ness to perceive it." 
 
 " I wonder if I'm that kind of woman," said 
 Mrs. Lewin suddenly ; she felt that she had 
 been out of the conversation long enough; this 
 seemed an opening. " I know Richarda thinks 
 so." 
 
 Richarda blushed. 
 
 " Oh yes, you do, Richarda ! If you could see 
 the way you look " 
 
 " Hattie ! " 
 
 But something forced Mrs. Lewin on she 
 felt as if the two men were a protection to her 
 against that silent idealism of Richarda's which 
 tormented her almost beyond endurance. She 
 turned to Dawson : " It's like this Richarda 
 says nothing, but I know she thinks I'm awful 
 because I only spend two months in the year with 
 my husband. Now, I put it to you: I had 
 been married three weeks when I discovered that 
 Tommy Lewin cared more for his mother and 
 for pie than he ever would for me. I saw that 
 I could never hope to rank in his affections, on 
 89
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 a par with those two items. So I arranged 
 things this way." She tossed the story of her 
 marriage lightly at the two men, with a note 
 of defiance in her voice. 
 
 Dawson laughed. " It's happened before, I 
 think. I mean the mother and the pie question. 
 Man's a strange animal. He falls in love so 
 inconsequently, and with such prodigality of 
 emotion, and even turns his mother and the pie 
 down during the attack. Seems to me though, 
 that you dealt with the situation rather ab- 
 ruptly. I should have supposed you might 
 have used up a couple of years " 
 
 "Years?" 
 
 " I said years. But I wouldn't exclude tears. 
 There's a great deal said in abuse of feminine 
 tears that I'm not in sympathy with. As a do- 
 mestic lubricant they're unsurpassed." 
 
 Mrs. Lewin looked at Dawson in open scorn. 
 " Well, for a sensible man " 
 
 " My dear lady, I'm not sensible. No man 
 is when it comes to certain things. Now I ad- 
 mit that I admire the elegance of emotion with 
 which you settle what might seem to the weak- 
 minded to be rather a serious problem, but " 
 
 " But don't you consider that I showed ad- 
 mirable judgment in " 
 90
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Admirable composure, I think I should 
 say," remarked Dawson. " But the trouble is, 
 a husband is not a business proposition he 
 can never be handled quite satisfactorily on that 
 basis. But if you're satisfied, I wouldn't worry 
 about the party of the second part." 
 
 "I don't," said Mrs. Lewin. "But Ri- 
 charda " 
 
 Homfrey jumped up. " Let's get the 
 cards," he said. " These metaphysical discus- 
 sions are beyond me." 
 
 As he passed his wife's chair, he laid his hand 
 on her shoulder she looked up and their eyes 
 met in a glance that Hattie Lewin intercepted. 
 What fools men were ! Richarda was a sweet 
 little thing of course; a man's woman, always 
 ready at any sacrifice to herself, to say and do 
 the thing that made her husband feel well 
 pleased with himself ; some women seemed created 
 just for that. She sorted her cards and thanked 
 God that she was not as such. 
 
 " It's a queer thing," broke out Dawson after 
 they had played a long time in silence, " but a 
 man's faith in woman has got to be on deposit 
 somewhere. You find it sometimes in pretty 
 queer places, but it's well to remember that the 
 poor devil probably put it where it seemed to 
 91
 
 him he got the highest rate of interest. I'm 
 thinking of your husband " he looked at Mrs. 
 Lewin " I daresay he dreamed some pretty 
 dreams about two years ago. Oh, we all do. 
 I tell you when my daughter is going to get 
 married I mean to say to her: ' See here, I 
 want you to understand that marriage is about 
 the darndest institution ever devised. You're 
 going to have a hell of a time, my dear, but if 
 you'll buckle down to it as seriously as if you 
 were taking the veil and giving up all the pomps 
 and vanities of this wicked world, perhaps you'll 
 pull through to a peaceful old age.' That will 
 prepare her for the shock of finding-out that 
 her husband is just plain man." 
 
 " Tell us, Richarda " said Mrs. Lewin teas- 
 ingly she looked at Homfrey " I've told her 
 everything about my husband, and she hasn't 
 said a thing to me about you Richarda, did 
 you have a shock like that? Did you find out 
 that your hero was just plain man? " 
 
 Richarda was looking at her cards; she did 
 not lift her eyes from them. " It dosn't inter- 
 est me to talk about that, Hattie," she said in- 
 differently. 
 
 " Listen to her ! " exclaimed Mrs. Lewin. 
 "It must have been very bad if she can't tell 
 92
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 us about it." She flashed a daring glance at 
 Homf rey ; she was in her most reckless mood, 
 and it occurred to her that this was the type of 
 man to have had many experiences before he 
 settled down as the husband of his wife. 
 " Dear " she leaned forward, her eyes fixed 
 upon Richarda's face " Was it very bad ? 
 did you find out that he " 
 
 Richarda laid her cards on the table. " What 
 makes you say such things? " she demanded. 
 " You do not suppose " 
 
 " There are a great many things I don't sup- 
 pose. I don't suppose for instance that you 
 would dream of asking for vourself the same 
 liberty that you would accord to your husband 
 that you would consider his right. And I 
 should like to know why not." 
 
 " I don't know why, Hattie." Richarda 
 turned to the two men. " Can't we go on with 
 the game?" she asked helplessly; they saw 
 that there were tears in her eyes. But in the 
 next instant she turned on Mrs. Lewin in a 
 blaze. " I don't know what you mean when 
 you talk as you do. My husband's liberty is 
 his own affair, and as for myself I have 
 never desired more than I have had." 
 
 Mrs. Lewin laughed provokingly, but the 
 93
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 game went on unmarked by further incident; 
 there had been a finality in Richarda's manner 
 that precluded continued argument. 
 
 But long after the house was still, Richarda 
 lay awake. How often it had seemed to her 
 that she could not bear it, that Homfrey should 
 look at her and wonder what she would think if 
 she knew. 
 
 To-night she had tried to tell him that with 
 her, he was safe that she accepted his judg- 
 ment that there were things it was not for her 
 to know. 
 
 She had quivered under his touch and under 
 that look in his eyes such revelation of ten- 
 derness towards her had become so rare. 
 
 But Richarda could not understand, because 
 the processes of Homfrey's thinking were neces- 
 sarily obscure to her, how difficult it had become 
 for him to express any emotion that concerned 
 itself with her, whether of pleasure or of dis- 
 pleasure. There were moments when he felt her 
 hunger for his tenderness moments when he 
 was tempted to take her in his arms in the old 
 vehement way of their early married days. Yet 
 he remained silent. 
 
 For between them, that boy stood; he was 
 never unconscious of him. Richarda's deter- 
 94
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 mined devotion to him remained the inexplica- 
 ble note of discord in the harmony of their 
 lives ; a discord which nowhere revealed a rela- 
 tion to the motif of her life, which clear to Hom- 
 frey's understanding was her affection for 
 himself. She had developed into a woman of 
 great, but unconscious fascination for any man, 
 through her paramount passion for one. For 
 his sake she seemed to have garnered within her- 
 self all the qualities that men have agreed upon 
 as adorable in woman ; Homf rey knew that there 
 was no sacrifice she would not make for him 
 no pain she would flinch at suffering. 
 
 No sacrifice save one ! 
 
 And because of it, there lurked always, far 
 back in his mind, only admitted to recognition 
 in rare moments, the feeling that his wife's per- 
 fection of sweetness was an offering to him a 
 species of reparation for the wrong that she 
 did him. It was a wrong that few men would 
 have borne; it was only because of his long 
 settled attitude towards life that he was able to 
 bear it. The older he grew the more clearly 
 he saw that the whole round for him and the 
 next man was merely a scene from some uncom- 
 prehended play which, for them, had neither 
 end nor beginning. And Richarda had her part 
 95
 
 as he had his it was not for him to interfere. 
 He saw people daily stretch out their hands and 
 sacrilegiously touch the ark of another life, as 
 confident of their ability and wisdom to direct 
 the issues of destiny as though they were the 
 All-Wise, Omniscient, Omnipotent. 
 
 It was always the same argument : " But I 
 know I'm right." He heard it every day in his 
 office, and he never heard it without wondering 
 with a great wonder. Whence came this mar- 
 vellous audacity which never questioned its own 
 judgment which never perceived that it was 
 possible for this finite / to be mistaken? For 
 as he watched, there seemed so little to warrant 
 even the wisest in reliance upon the impecca- 
 bility of his own opinions. Human nature 
 the best lied to itself unconsciously ; the per- 
 sonal bias was never eliminated. 
 
 He watched and saw all this, and then turned 
 his search-light upon himself, and found within 
 just what he saw without. His reward was 
 that, unconsciously, he rose to great heights in 
 dealing with the nature of his wife. Never 
 again, after the birth of his son, had he uttered 
 protest against the presence in his home of this 
 alien boy, yet he had borne in silence some ex- 
 periences that had left deep marks upon him. 
 96
 
 There was one that scorched still in his memory ; 
 it happened to him soon after Jack had first 
 been sent to school. He came into the library 
 and saw a card lying on the table he glanced 
 at it idly and observed that it was the report 
 card of John Homfrey. 
 
 In a moment the very air about him seemed 
 to be in flames ; he went to the door and called : 
 " Richarda ! " in a voice that had to fight its way 
 to utterance. 
 
 She came running, frightened. 
 
 But when he saw her, a change came. " No, 
 I don't want you," he said heavily, and putting 
 her from him, he shut the door. 
 
 Then the storm raged. Homfrey that 
 boy to be called by his name, his son's name 
 that boy, the son of what blood the Lord alone 
 knew! 
 
 He walked miles in that quiet library that 
 afternoon. 
 
 But after a long time he was still. A man's 
 name what was it ? a tag on his door-plate 
 to-day on his tomb-stone to-morrow. 
 
 Sometimes, by way of setting himself a prob- 
 lem, he wondered what would happen if he " as- 
 serted his authority " he smiled at the inter- 
 pretation of marriage revealed in the expres- 
 97
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 sion and demanded that the boy be removed 
 from the house. It was proof of that complex- 
 ity which he knew lay under Richarda's appar- 
 ent simplicity of conduct in the wedding relation, 
 that he found himself unable to arrive at any 
 answer to this question which remained the an- 
 swer the next time he propounded it. 
 
 There was one thing certain, and that was, 
 that if Richarda had selected her protege merely 
 by way of demonstrating the perceptive value 
 of her judgment, she would have had ample 
 reason to be proud of herself. For as the years 
 passed Homfrey could not fail to perceive that 
 here was a mind making itself ready for no ordi- 
 nary maturing, though his pose was that of con- 
 tempt for the pyrotechnic qualities of the boy's 
 brilliance. 
 
 Yet Jack was no miasmatic specimen of ab- 
 normal precocity. Homfrey watched him some- 
 times, and thought grimly that whoever was 
 responsible for him, had given to the world a 
 creature who revelled as few could in the pure 
 joy of living. 
 
 The boy's temperament was so strangely, so 
 
 tormentingly similar to his own, which was but 
 
 further example of the persistent irony of 
 
 things, for it was clear that Dick was of a dif- 
 
 98
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ferent make from himself a solid, serious per- 
 son, with none of that remarkable fatality of 
 intuition which had largely made Homfrey' rep- 
 utation ; he had instead the quality of plod which 
 would doubtless carry him far, but he would 
 never know those fascinating risks in which the 
 gambling soul of his father exulted. 
 
 The attitude of Richarda towards her own son 
 was an interesting study to Homfrey. Some- 
 times when the affairs of the two boys threatened 
 collision, it seemed as if she deliberately pro- 
 tected Jack at the expense of Dick. But Hom- 
 frey could understand that; it was what was to 
 be expected from a character like hers. She 
 argued doubtless, that her child was safe in his 
 father's and her own affection ; the other, save 
 for her, was at the mercy of chance. She 
 showed the utmost skill in keeping Jack in the 
 background, but Homfrey knew that she was 
 eternally conscious that he was there. 
 
 She was ; her face had the pathetic patience 
 of one who has waited long, and is still waiting 
 the expression added a wistful charm to her 
 manner. 
 
 She was waiting still for the crisis which 
 never came, which must never come. She was 
 not clear yet as to her attitude towards the great 
 99
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 problem in her life her point of view re- 
 mained too hopelessly confused for satisfactory 
 analysis. But she had learnt to know that it 
 was after her periods of greatest depression, 
 that there were granted to her those rare mo- 
 ments of exaltation when she was able to believe 
 that she was, somehow, at some time, to see of 
 the travail of her soul and be satisfied. 
 
 100
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 " You're sure you've got everything, Jack ? " 
 
 " Oh, Lady dear, everything ! Besides, think 
 of it, only forty miles away. To hear you, one 
 would suppose I was off for China at least." 
 
 "Yes, isn't it foolish? But Jack it's be- 
 cause it's the beginning. You will never really 
 come back to me again." 
 
 The boy threw himself down on the floor be- 
 side her, and leaned his brown head against her 
 knee. Winsome ways of appeal he had, and 
 Richarda knew and loved them all. Her fingers 
 strayed over his hair with her eyes shut she 
 could have believed it Homfrey's. But Jack 
 was cast in a darker mould than his father in 
 him the blue eyes were brown. But the expres- 
 sion ! Time and again her heart had stood still 
 in fear; it sometimes seemed incredible that any- 
 one could fail to see and understand. 
 
 " That boy is the most adaptable dog," Daw- 
 son said to her one day. " Just look at him 
 he has Homfrey's tricks and turns to the life. 
 It's the gift of the artistic spirit of course 
 101
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 it soaks up its environment like a sponge. I 
 daresay after he's been at Waverley a while, 
 he'll be a counterpart of Maxwell." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said Richarda faintly. 
 
 She recalled that now, as she felt her fingers 
 on Jack's hair, for only to-day as she had 
 watched him playing tennis with Homfrey, she 
 had had again one of those moments of unen- 
 durable fear. The father had stamped himself 
 ineffaceably upon his son ; white-shirted, bare- 
 armed, bareheaded ; playing with the same inten- 
 sity of action ; the one voice an echo of the other 
 she had waited, listening for what surely 
 must come that moment when Homfrey him- 
 self would be forced to understand. 
 
 Her fingers trembled now; Jack seized them 
 and lightly kissed their tips. 
 
 " Oh Lady," he exclaimed, bubbling over, 
 " It's so good to be a boy going to college ! 
 Do you know it? " 
 
 She smiled. " Yes, I can imagine that. It's 
 good to be young." 
 
 " But better to be older, Lady," he answered 
 quickly ; the colour came into his face. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " To be master of one's self to be under no 
 obligations to anyone." 
 
 102
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Yes, of course. Every boy should wish for 
 that." She spoke calmly, but the colour had 
 come into her face too. 
 
 Jack dropped her hand; she understood what 
 he was thinking, but there was nothing that she 
 could say Homfrey was never mentioned be- 
 tween them. But after a while she spoke hur- 
 riedly : " Jack, to-night I must tell you I want 
 you never to forget when you are away from 
 me that you have made me very happy 
 that you have never disappointed me." 
 
 " Oh Lady ! " he exclaimed softly. 
 
 There was another long silence ; then Jack 
 said : " You'll come to see me very often, won't 
 you?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 He looked up at her. 
 
 " But that won't make any difference," she 
 said lightly. " I shall always be thinking of 
 you." 
 
 " Thinking of me ! That won't go very far, 
 Lady." 
 
 " Oh yes, it will ! It goes further than any- 
 thing else, Jack." She was speaking in an im- 
 petuous rush now. " I shall be thinking of you 
 all the time you are never to forget that." 
 Her heart was oppressed with the thought of 
 103
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 things which she felt she ought to say to him 
 things not easy to say. " Jack sometimes I 
 get so afraid for you. You're so clever, and 
 clever men sometimes I think it's hard 
 for them to be good." 
 
 Dear Lady ! Jack could have smiled or 
 wept at her nai've ingenuity. To-night he 
 understood that he faced the parting of the 
 ways ; it was not unlikely that the path he would 
 choose would lead him far, into strange places 
 places of which Lady had no knowledge. 
 And she would bid him beware! he felt that 
 he had never loved her as he did at this mo- 
 ment. 
 
 She went on, her voice quivering with shy- 
 ness. " You see, you're so good to look at, 
 Jack. I've always been so glad of that, but 
 to-night, I think I wish you weren't." 
 
 Jack broke into laughter. 
 
 " Yes, I know it seems funny for me to say 
 that." She looked at him patiently. "But 
 some day you will understand. You have all 
 the endowment that sometimes makes things very 
 hard for a man." 
 
 She was skirting a big question and she 
 mourned her lack of courage. Now, if ever, 
 the boy needed a father to forewarn his feet of 
 104
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 pitfalls, but he was to go out upon his long 
 way in the world with only her halting admoni- 
 tions as his guide. She had sought in all these 
 years to take possession of his imagination with 
 her ideals to strengthen him against the com- 
 ing of that time when his nature might feel the 
 strain in every nerve of all that was a sin against 
 him in his inheritance. 
 
 To-night she realised that her work was done ; 
 henceforth other influences were to mould him, 
 other powers to control. Would her simple 
 teachings avail him, in that vortex of compli- 
 cated motive, where evil tempts with smile of 
 innocence, and honour is but the mask of expe- 
 diency ? 
 
 " Have I? " laughed Jack. " I'm glad of it, 
 Lady. I don't want things easy. Oh, don't 
 sigh like that ! I know what a worry I am, 
 what a bad boy I've often been, but wait 
 some day " he let the uncompleted sentence 
 stand. 
 
 " I know," said Richarda. " I'm sure of that. 
 I always have been." 
 
 " Lady, you're adorable ! " he exclaimed im- 
 pulsively, and then laughed with her. " Now 
 I must go up-stairs and say good-night to Dick. 
 He'll be looking for me. But I won't be long." 
 105
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Presently she heard peals of laughter from 
 the room above; her face grew sad as she lis- 
 tened. In spite of the most difficult conditions, 
 she had maintained between these two, the chil- 
 dren of the same father, an affection such as 
 neither might have felt for his own brother. 
 She had held them together, but in the future a 
 strong hand would hold them apart. She knew 
 that it was not Homfrey's intention to send 
 Dick to Jack's college; she understood that 
 Homf rey of Harvard and Homfrey of Waverley 
 were intended in the future, to have as little 
 community of association as possible. The cru- 
 elty of that to Jack ! sometimes it was hard 
 for her to remember that Homfrey did not know 
 what she knew. 
 
 Occasionally not very often now she 
 thought of the boy's mother, who in all these 
 years had made no sign. There seemed such 
 irony in the fate of being the mother of a boy 
 who had become what Jack had, and in never 
 knov, ing it. But she was doubtless content, and 
 probably the mother of other children who pos- 
 sessed for her the attraction of being reputably 
 born. Richarda's lip curled when she thought 
 of this ; the advantages seemed all on Jack's 
 side in comparison. 
 
 106
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Jack came down-stairs, but did not come back 
 to her; she waited, and presently she heard 
 the sound of the piano ; he was playing to him- 
 self in the dark it was a way of his when 
 Homfrey was absent, as to-night. 
 
 She went in and slipped into her usual place 
 on a low chair beside him, and looked at him 
 as if she were seeing him for the last time ; the 
 light from a street-lamp illuminated his head 
 delicately, and accentuated a certain austerity 
 of expression she had never observed in him be- 
 fore. 
 
 " Jack, you look like the picture of a young 
 saint," she said. 
 
 "Do I?" he answered absently. 
 
 Presently he was playing faster the keys 
 were in whirlwind ; some strange mood was upon 
 him working itself out through the crowded 
 notes. 
 
 She had never seen him like this before; as 
 she listened she grew perturbed. There were 
 possibilities of tragic emotion in a nature which 
 revealed so soon an almost sinister appreciation 
 of the exquisiteness of agony in that cruel chro- 
 matic strain, repeated again and again with 
 such varying subtlety of expression that she felt 
 she could not bear the sound of it once more 
 107
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 and then there was silence the silence that 
 brings a sense of fear with it. 
 
 " Lady ! " the word came so quietly that she 
 might have been tempted to believe the tempest 
 stilled ; instinctively, she knew better. " Lady, 
 tell me I want to know to-night I must 
 know. Who were my parents ? " 
 
 She was looking at a slender silver vase, filled 
 with white and purple sweet peas Homf rey 
 had brought them to her when he came in hur- 
 riedly at noon to prepare for an unexpected 
 trip. How many were there? one, two, three 
 No, she was not thinking of that. Yet she 
 began again one, two, three 
 
 Who "were my parents? 
 
 But she had always expected that question ; 
 for years she had faced its certain coming. And 
 she had manipulated words in every species of 
 reply, so that when she was at last confronted 
 with it, it should not find her unprepared. 
 
 " Lady ! " 
 
 " Yes Jack. Wait a moment." She got up 
 to re-arrange the white and purple flowers. 
 " Oh, how stupid I am ! I've only made them 
 look worse." She sat down again. It was 
 childish to be so nervous there was nothing 
 impossible to explain. 
 
 108
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " There's really nothing to tell, Jack. I 
 know so little, you see. I can easily tell you 
 what what ; 
 
 " You can tell me who I am. That is all I 
 want to know." 
 
 " Yes, of course. But Jack " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You know you can trust me. I've never 
 failed you, have I? " 
 
 " No, you've never failed me. But this 
 what is it ? why don't you tell me at once what 
 I want to know? " 
 
 " I don't know," she faltered. 
 
 " But you know." 
 
 She was silent. 
 
 " Lady, isn't it my right to know." 
 
 " It may be your right, but sometimes " 
 
 He made an impatient gesture. " It's so 
 simple. I can't understand why there should 
 be any difficulty about it. I want to know where 
 I stand. I want to know just where I belong." 
 
 " Oh Jack, have I done so little " her voice 
 broke. 
 
 " You ! " he cried. 
 
 There was such passion of tribute in his tone 
 that her heart took courage. But before she 
 could speak again he said abruptly: 
 109
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Does Mr. Homfrey know who I am? " 
 
 Almost before she realised that her lips had 
 opened, she answered breathlessly : " No." 
 
 It was such a relief to be able to say that 
 it seemed at the moment to dispose of the most 
 perilous side of the question. 
 
 "But you do?" 
 
 She was silent; then a sudden terror seized 
 her. She had been forgetting how simple it all 
 was, and that had betrayed her into this slip. 
 " Don't you see, Jack, that I just took you be- 
 cause I wanted you I had never seen you or 
 heard of you until a week before you came to 
 be my boy always." 
 
 He looked at her steadily. " You wish me to 
 understand that you adopted an unknown child 
 because you wanted him when your husband 
 objected when he always has objected to hav- 
 ing me under your roof? " 
 
 Again she was silent. 
 
 " Can you not understand what it means to 
 me to realise that I have, I suppose, no right to 
 any name that to-morrow I go out into the 
 world able to give to it no reputable account 
 of myself v ' his voice hardened in determina- 
 tion " that I shall be ashamed when men ask 
 who I am?" 
 
 110
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Why, you're Jack Homfrey," she said with 
 an effort at lightness ; then she grew white. 
 
 He smiled bitterly. " That won't do, Lady. 
 And you forget your husband. You forget 
 that all these years he has merely endured me 
 in his home. Do you think there has been a 
 day when I have forgotten that, since I was 
 old enough to understand? And do you think 
 that in the world he will vouch for me ? that 
 if anyone asked him who I was, he would stand 
 by me and say that I was Jack Homfrey? 
 you know he would not. Homfrey ! I hate 
 the name ! " 
 
 " Jack ! " 
 
 But the storm had burst she saw; that. 
 "Do you know what I played out just now? 
 No, I won't tell you." He clenched his hand. 
 " He is your husband, Lady, but some day " 
 
 " How dare you ? " Richarda was in a flame. 
 " How dare you forget that all these years your 
 home " but she said no more ; she held out 
 her hand to the boy and looked at him through 
 her tears. 
 
 " I know," he said miserably. " I ought 
 
 never to forget, but Lady, you are not fair to 
 
 me. I want you to tell me what I want to 
 
 know." He waited; he would not speak again, 
 
 111
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 and she was silent a long time. At last she 
 looked up her voice was strangely sweet as 
 she said : " I cannot tell you anything more, 
 Jack." 
 
 He looked at her steadily. " I see that you 
 will not. I shall not ask you to again." 
 
 " Oh Jack ! " It was a sad cry. 
 
 But he did not heed it ; they sat in silence 
 while she timidly watched his stern face 
 twenty, thirty years from now, scarred by the 
 experiences of life were these to be the lines 
 indelibly graven upon it? 
 
 No ! she demanded happiness for him ; it 
 was the due of this misused child of chance. 
 
 But when he spoke it was only to torment her 
 into fresh fears. " How I have tried to remem- 
 ber, and I can only be sure of one thing, and 
 that is the first time that I came here. A woman 
 brought me I can feel yet the sort of hand 
 she had it wasn't like yours, Lady, but I 
 don't know why. And that's all I can remem- 
 ber. But it doesn't matter." 
 
 She looked at him with wan eyes she had 
 thought all that buried in the safe forgetfulness 
 of a baby's mind ! 
 
 He began to play again, but this time with a 
 touch as light as the breath from a sleeping 
 child's lips.
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He looked at her. " I'm talking to you. Do 
 you understand? " 
 
 She nodded, and was comforted. But only 
 for the moment. For to-night he had begged of 
 her the knowledge that she had concerning him, 
 and she had refused it. Some day when he was 
 away from her, he would remember that against 
 her with bitterness. 
 
 " Jack ! " she was driven to sudden speech 
 " Some day you may find it hard to forgive 
 me because I would not tell you what you want 
 to know. But when you think that " she 
 laid her hand on his arm insistently " You 
 are to remember that I did not tell you because 
 I could not. If it ever happened that you came 
 to know it through anyone else, you would un- 
 derstand that I that 7 could never have 
 told you." 
 
 He made no answer they stood, facing each 
 other. And slowly there came a strange look 
 into Jack's eyes a look which Richarda could 
 not fathom. 
 
 Then he said : " I think I understand, 
 Lady." 
 
 He was no longer looking at her he turned 
 and struck an idle chord on the piano another. 
 Then facing her again, but still with eyes that 
 113
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 avoided hers, lie added: " I said just now when 
 I was playing that I was talking to you. I 
 was. I was asking you something something 
 that I hardly understood, I think. But now I 
 do. I know " 
 
 " What do you know ? " The question was 
 sharp ; there was a touch of defiance in it. 
 
 " I know " but looking at her now, Jack 
 hesitated. " It really doesn't matter what I 
 mean. There's no reason why I should say it. 
 Because you know, Lady." 
 
 There was that in his tone which made Ri- 
 charda feel as if someone had struck her; she 
 turned white. Then she said simply : " I don't 
 know what you mean, Jack." 
 
 He made an exclamation it sounded con- 
 temptuous. She had never heard anything like 
 that from Jack before, and in the moment she 
 had a curious thought of his mother as she had 
 stood in this room and told her the truth about 
 the child. The boy had never seemed so inalien- 
 ably one with that mother as he did to her in 
 this instant; she shrank from him, and thought 
 of her own boy up-stairs with a bewildered 
 yearning for him. 
 
 " Don't let us try to shirk it," said Jack 
 he struck the sharp corner of the table with his
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 hand and felt the pain as the edge cut, as re- 
 motely as though it were the wound of another, 
 for a deeper pain was paramount in his confusion 
 of mind the sort of pain that went with the 
 slow drip of blood from a mortal wound. He 
 was losing his faith in something, but he did not 
 realise that yet. " You know and I know what 
 the truth is. But I'm not blaming you." 
 
 "Blaming me?" 
 
 " No. But what is the use pretending that 
 you don't understand me? " 
 
 She was deadly still now but her stillness 
 acted upon him like wind upon flame. 
 
 "Lady! Don't! don't lie to me." His 
 face was as white as her own. " Don't you see 
 that at last I understand? " 
 
 " You understand what ? " Her lips hardly 
 moved. She was wondering with a strange cu- 
 riosity, how she was to bear hearing him say 
 that he knew he was Homfrey's son. 
 
 It infuriated him this stubborn resistance 
 this determination not to meet him at any 
 point. 
 
 " Why that you that you are my 
 mother." 
 
 She sat down ; as she did so, the machinery 
 which constituted her a living, feeling being 
 115
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 seemed quietly to stop. Yet in a moment the 
 colour came in a storm back to her face ; she 
 was thinking of Tim what did anything mat- 
 ter so long as he was safe from what she had 
 feared ? 
 
 Jack saw, and misunderstood. " Then it is 
 true, and you " 
 
 She was on her feet. "True? That? 
 What you said just now? " She turned from 
 him then looked at him. " That true of 
 
 Words meant nothing in such a pass as this ; 
 she understood why sometimes with men nothing 
 but the bare fist and a blow availed. 
 
 But the next moment she was in a passion of 
 tears it was a long time before she lifted her 
 head. 
 
 When at last she looked up her face was a 
 shock to Jack. He took a step towards her. 
 But she ignored him. 
 
 She began to speak but hardly as if she 
 were speaking to him. 
 
 " To think that you that you who have 
 lived with me all these years that you could 
 think that that you could think I would de- 
 ceive like that that you could think that, if 
 you were mine, anything would have kept me 
 116
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 from saying so ! Is that all you have learnt of 
 me from living with me, Jack? " 
 
 With a moan the boy turned away from her; 
 the misery that had been in her face seemed 
 transferred to his. 
 
 " What have I done for you, Jack why, it 
 has all been worth nothing if it has not taught 
 you that there are some things impossible to the 
 sort of woman that I am." 
 
 The tears on her face seemed to add to the 
 dignity with which she spoke the truth that 
 was in her was triumphant it did not occur to 
 Jack to doubt her. 
 
 She held out her hand to him and he came to 
 her. All his world was wrong again ; he was 
 alone once more, with a keener sense of desola- 
 tion than before, because for a moment he had 
 known the bitter joy of believing that he be- 
 longed to her. He felt as if his soul had lost 
 its God. And he had been cruel to her with a 
 cruelty that no woman could forgive. 
 
 " If you knew what it meant to me to be- 
 lieve that," he cried " If you knew how hard 
 it is " 
 
 She looked at him with tears. " Do you 
 think I don't know? " 
 
 The tears were in his own eyes now those 
 tears that were so difficult for him. 
 117
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Lady, I have nothing to say," he cried 
 helplessly. " I'm no good. Why did you ever 
 take me in ? " 
 
 She smiled a smile so sad that he was 
 stabbed afresh. " It was the hardest thing I 
 ever did, Jack. But I have never been sorry." 
 
 It was his last night in the place that he had 
 called home because of her. She remem- 
 bered that, and as he bade her good-night, she 
 said to him with lips that quivered : " Is it well 
 between us, Jack? " 
 
 He answered her with eyes that adored. 
 
 But in the days that followed she was haunted 
 by the horror of what he had said. 
 
 If Jack had been able to think that but 
 there she paused. It was not possible to her to 
 follow that suggestion. 
 
 But the thought she would not tolerate left 
 its mark upon her. She became conscious of a 
 certain bitterness in herself; she rebelled as 
 never before, at the mystery of things at 
 the meaning of pain ; at the strange sacrifices 
 that love seemed called upon to make. 
 
 Nevertheless her thoughts always led her back 
 to the simplicity of her early resolution. She 
 must maintain her ideal of marriage at any cost. 
 118
 
 Her horror, of the fact that Jack was her hus- 
 band's son would be as great now if she had 
 to endure the humiliation to her love of admit- 
 ting to Homf rey her knowledge of this as it 
 had been when she first learned of it. 
 
 And the years between had only added to her 
 power to maintain silence; every faculty was 
 trained to that end. 
 
 Into an abstraction she had breathed the 
 breath of life ; her ideal of marriage had become 
 to her as the living God. 
 
 119
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Mrs. Dawson idolised her husband, but she 
 cherished in regard to him a belief quite common 
 to women of little imagination and excellent 
 morals, who happen to have married men of su- 
 perior character she was rooted in the convic- 
 tion that he owed his nature to her influence. 
 True, he would not go to church. But his word 
 was worth as much as his bond, and she hoped 
 the good Lord would ultimately accept, in his 
 case, the substitution of moral for more dog- 
 matically defined spiritual credentials. 
 
 It was her opinion that of men in the mass, 
 the less said the better. They appeared to be 
 born with an objection to folding up the news- 
 paper after they had read it, and with a desire 
 to know what you had done with what they had 
 lost, which you had never even seen. The fact 
 that women like herself were occasionally their 
 mothers and wives was presumably all that made 
 them possible from one generation to the next. 
 
 It was inevitable that Dawson should go to 
 the Homfreys' house much more often than 
 120
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Homfrey went to his. The atmosphere of the 
 one place was that in which men felt naturally 
 at ease. 
 
 This evening happened to be one of the rare 
 occasions when Dawson brought his wife with 
 him. Conversation lagged somewhat, but Mrs. 
 Dawson did not observe that ; she had her knit- 
 ting, and after she had discussed the weather 
 and the children and her new coot, with Ri- 
 charda, she relapsed into contented silence ; there 
 was nothing further to talk about. 
 
 Then Richarda gratefully enlarged her bor- 
 ders. " I didn't tell you, did I, Tim?" her 
 glance included Dawson " that I had a letter 
 from Hattie Lewin to-day. Old Mrs. Lewin is 
 dead she died of pneumonia quite surpris- 
 ingly. And now Hattie's certain that Mr. 
 Lewin thinks she ought to go to him." 
 
 " Wasn't she at the funeral ? " asked Hom- 
 frey. 
 
 " Oh no. She says she hates funerals." 
 
 " Who does she suppose enjoys them? " mur- 
 mured Dawson. " What a self-sacrificing 
 woman she is ! " 
 
 " It never once entered into her calculations 
 that the old lady could actually ' up and die,' 
 as she puts it, and when Tommy kept on sending
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 telegrams, she kept, on answering them encourag- 
 ingly." 
 
 Homfrey laughed. 
 
 " Yes, I know," said Richarda as if in an- 
 swer to his thought : " But Hattie has been so 
 unfortunate." 
 
 "Unfortunate?" 
 
 " Of course she has. She ought to have 
 married young, and quite a different sort of man 
 I think. She was thirty-seven when she mar- 
 ried Tommy Lewin it wasn't like a girl fall- 
 ing in love and he really wasn't the sort of 
 man Hattie would have turned her head to look 
 at if" 
 
 " if he hadn't been such an excellent busi- 
 ness proposition," remarked Dawson. " She 
 makes me think of the modern addition to the 
 adage, Children should be seen and not heard 
 Why seen ? That appears to be her theory with 
 regard to Tommy." 
 
 " Yes, it does rather," assented Richarda. 
 " Her letter is so funny. She says that when 
 she heard Mrs. Lewin was really dead, she made 
 a great effort to enter into Tommy's feelings and 
 be sympathetic " 
 
 " by wire," interpolated Homfrey. 
 
 " And now she thinks that was the great-
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 est mistake she could have made ; because ever 
 since, Tommy has been clamouring to know 
 when she will arrive. And she always goes 
 abroad at this time of year. And now she's 
 afraid that he will want to go too. She says 
 he doesn't seem to realise the nature of their 
 marriage in the least. She calls him a clammy 
 idealist the kind of man who idealises his 
 relation to his mother, and then wants to inflict 
 the same misery on his wife." 
 
 " What's the matter with Tommy ? " ex- 
 claimed Dawson. " Why, he's got a cinch on 
 that wife of his. All he has to do to bring her 
 to time is to stop supplies." 
 
 " Yes, but he's not that sort." 
 
 " More's the pity. He idealises, when what 
 she needs is a sand-bagging. That's the only 
 way to deal with women of that type." 
 
 Mrs. Dawson had stopped knitting; she was 
 listening to the conversation, which impressed 
 her as curious. 
 
 " She says old Mrs. Lewin could not have 
 planned a more malicious act," continued Ri- 
 charda. " She's afraid that from now on Tom- 
 my is going to be a disturbing factor in her life." 
 
 This was going beyond Mrs. Dawson's pow- 
 ers of endurance. " Do I understand that the 
 123
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 man is her husband? " she asked with dignity. 
 
 " Yes, my dear," said Dawson quickly, " but 
 he drinks." 
 
 " Oh ! " Mrs. Dawson was a woman of anti- 
 alcoholic convictions. " Still as he is her hus- 
 band" 
 
 " But the case is exceptional. This man has 
 probably drunk enough to drown himself in." 
 
 " Oh ! " Mrs. Dawson declined upon her reflec- 
 tions, which were concerned with wondering 
 whether a woman of a different sort from this 
 wife might not have influenced this man in a 
 better direction. But on second thought she 
 glanced doubtfully at Dawson one never could 
 be quite sure a man's sense of humour is a 
 strange thing. 
 
 " After all, the woman's delicious," exclaimed 
 Homfrey. " She's so frank." 
 
 " Yes, and to me too, when she knows what I 
 think? " Richarda smiled, remembering some 
 things in that letter. " She says that Tommy 
 is not an ordinary man that he has a way of 
 sticking in your mind that is most trying." 
 
 " She's a star humorist," said Dawson. " She 
 ought to be printed or platformed. Now if 
 Tommy's sense of humour were only equal to 
 hers "
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Ah yes ! But I'm afraid he loves her," 
 interrupted Richarda. 
 
 Homfrey looked quizzically at his wife 
 they had all risen, as the Dawsons were going 
 " You mean that when a man loves a woman, his 
 sense of humour necessarily deserts him? " 
 
 Richarda made a little outward gesture with 
 her hands her colour rose she did not turn 
 her eyes from Mrs. Dawson's serenely rounded 
 countenance. " If you were a woman you 
 would know it does." 
 
 Then she laughed that light chill laugh 
 which Homfrey never heard without wondering; 
 it did not belong in his conception of his wife. 
 
 He walked out to the street with the Dawsons ; 
 when he came back he found Richarda curled up 
 in the big chair she looked tired. But she 
 began to talk it occurred to Homfrey that 
 she was a more nervous woman than she used 
 to be. 
 
 " That's a curious marriage." She indicated 
 the Dawsons with a gesture. " How a man like 
 Mr. Dawson " 
 
 " It's an ideal marriage," said Homfrey. 
 " As marriages go." 
 
 Richarda laughed. " You make me think of 
 what Edith Merson said to me the other day 
 125
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 about the Ransoms. * Oh yes, Mrs. Homfrey, 
 they're a perfectly congenial couple just as 
 happy as two people can be after being married 
 ten 3 r ears.' ' 
 
 " Edith Merson ! What does she know about 
 it? That's the up-to-date bachelor-girl who 
 thinks marriage is an open book to her," com- 
 mented Homfrey. " But the Dawsons why, 
 Mrs. Dawson's practicality of mind unmarred 
 by any suspicion of humour makes her the one 
 woman for Henry. It will not occur to her for 
 a long time that when Dawson said Lewin drank, 
 he meant water or tea. That kind of thing 
 amuses Dawson perennially. It would irritate 
 me to the murder point. But Mrs. Dawson is a 
 woman of the finest domestic ability she has 
 run their house on ten dollars a week when she 
 had to, and she would again. The woman is a 
 power in her own place. Dawson knows that 
 and respects her for it. As for the rest " 
 Homfrey looked at his wife, this curious, con- 
 tradictory Charda, who had fascination in her 
 very finger-tips " well, I have often thought 
 that Dawson did not miss some things in his wife 
 that he might have missed if it had not been 
 for you." 
 
 "Forme?" 
 
 126
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Homfrey laughed. " My dear Charda, 
 there is nothing out of the way in that. You 
 have a great many charms that interest a man 
 my being your husband does not prevent my 
 seeing that, and " 
 
 " Tim ! " 
 
 But Homfrey laughed again ; he had a sud- 
 den desire to torment Richarda. 
 
 " My dear, Dawson is the most faithful of 
 husbands. It has never occurred to him that he 
 could be anything else. But he has never missed 
 some things, because he knows you. You keep 
 him charmed. He does not realise how dull his 
 home life is, because he can always come and 
 see you. He thinks of course, that he comes to 
 see me." 
 
 " How interesting ! " 
 
 " Isn't it? Dawson is not analytical. He 
 feels something I daresay, when he looks at the 
 shape of your arm. He feels happy, and he 
 associates that feeling with coming to see me." 
 
 " How interesting ! " said Richarda again. 
 
 " Yes. You see, you have a beautiful arm." 
 
 " I know it," she said calmly. " It is a mere 
 matter of accident, and has nothing to do with 
 what is I." 
 
 " I question that. At any rate, it's the sort 
 127
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of accident that has a good deal to do with what 
 is men." 
 
 Richarda looked at her husband. " I found 
 that out a long time ago." 
 
 " What? " 
 
 " The difference between the woman's and the 
 man's point of view." 
 
 Homfrey laughed. " I suppose all women 
 think they understand that sooner or later." 
 
 " Probably. I wonder why men flatter them- 
 selves that it's hard to understand." She 
 laughed that laugh again. "It's so simple. 
 One merely parts with one's ideals and there 
 you are ! " 
 
 " Why Charda ! " Homfrey felt some slight 
 astonishment. Then he smiled. What did she 
 think she understood? But she was speaking 
 again. 
 
 " It never seems to occur to men that women, 
 even fools, know a good deal about them. For 
 there is nothing that a woman has as much 
 chance to understand as she has to understand 
 a man." 
 
 " One man. But not men." 
 
 She smiled. " One grain of sand can you 
 tell it from another? " Then her mood seemed 
 to change. " Don't let us talk about it. It's 
 128
 
 all so stupid. It doesn't matter in the least 
 what men think of women, or women of men. 
 It doesn't alter anything. It all goes on hap- 
 pening just the same your goodness or my 
 badness or Mrs. Dawson's dullness. That was 
 all settled long before we had anything to do 
 with ourselves." 
 
 " Charda, what a mood ! " 
 
 " No. It's merely a point of view. Didn't 
 it ever occur to you, Tim, that perhaps you 
 know only a little about my point of view? 
 Most men wouldn't of course. But you you 
 are discriminating. How is it that you don't? " 
 
 Homfrey smoked, and looked at her, content 
 to enjoy the moment; she had never seemed to 
 him more fascinating. She was taking herself 
 seriously she, who had been protected from 
 every wind that blew whose weightiest respon- 
 sibility was the choosing of a gown, or the or- 
 dering of a dinner! But he did not mind, so 
 long as the charm of the woman was the para- 
 mount impression induced by her innocent pose. 
 
 " Come here," he said in the tone that was a 
 caress ; he held out his hand. 
 
 She was standing by the table; she turned 
 and looked at him a little exclamation es- 
 caped her lips. She understood; he wanted to 
 129
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 kiss her ; he always did when he looked like that. 
 She laughed lightly, but her throat felt sud- 
 denly hot ; she stepped to the further side of the 
 table away from him. 
 
 " I wonder what is the use of being a good 
 woman," she said in a thinking voice. "I don't 
 quite see. I wonder if men have ever loved a 
 good woman as they have loved a bad one. I 
 think not. It's all very complicated, isn't it? 
 I suppose it always will be. It's funny, you 
 know " she paused a moment " to think 
 that a man's way of loving a good woman or a 
 bad one is just the same." 
 
 " Charda, you mustn't say things like that." 
 
 " But if I'm made to think them? " 
 
 " What nonsense ! What's the matter to- 
 night?" 
 
 " Nothing nothing." But he saw that she 
 was breathless. " Only sometimes one longs to 
 say the absurd thing just to hear what it sounds 
 like. Don't you think so ? " She flashed at him 
 a look brilliant, defiant. 
 
 Homfrey waited. 
 
 She stepped back and leaned against the wall. 
 
 "Oh, I'm thinking thinking " she said in 
 
 a sing-song to which she beat time with a light 
 
 foot "I'm thinking, what would you say 
 
 130
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 No, I won't I won't." She broke off in a 
 tone that baffled him. 
 
 " Charda." 
 
 " Dear, I will be good and serious." She 
 made a charming face at him. " I won't laugh 
 at the big muddle any more. But " 
 
 " Charda, come here ! " 
 
 " Tim, come here ! " she mimicked. 
 
 He jumped up. But when she felt his arms 
 about her, she said strangely : " Tim, I think 
 I shall die if you kiss me now." 
 
 He laughed ; his blood was keen for the sense 
 of her lips. And the tears in her eyes when he 
 let her go were as the last touch to his enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 " Charda, you make a fool of a man." 
 
 She quivered and smiled. 
 
 "Do you love me?" he said. "Tell me 
 do you? " He held her hands tight in his. 
 
 " How should I know, if you don't. Love? 
 " she paused as if listening to the word. 
 " No, I don't think I know what it means, 
 Tim." 
 
 " You actually " 
 
 Her light figure stiffened ; she threw out her 
 hands as if to fling something from her. 
 
 " Charda, do you mean to say that you have 
 131
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 lived all these years with me my wife and 
 have never known that what I felt for you and 
 what you felt for me, was 
 
 " Don't say it, Tim." Then she added with 
 a lack of emphasis which was emphasis a hun- 
 dred-fold: " I hate that word." 
 
 He looked at her with an expression that was 
 hostile, menacing. 
 
 " You say that to me ? " 
 
 " Yes to you," she said slowly. 
 
 He stepped back. " You're a strange woman, 
 Charda." He too spoke quietly. " For one 
 thing, you lie. Do you think I could love you 
 as I do to-day if you did not feel just as I do, 
 the love that flows from you to me, and from me 
 to you? You dare not deny it. Now, as I 
 kiss you " he took her in his arms again ; he 
 could not not see her face, but her little hand, 
 trembling in his, spoke for her. 
 
 " Say that you love me," he whispered. 
 
 For answer he felt her tears upon his face; 
 he wondered confusedly what had induced this 
 transcendent moment between them. 
 
 But it passed; he kissed her again lightly, 
 and cast a look at his book; then picked it up 
 and glanced at a paragraph he had read to 
 Dawson. 
 
 132
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Dear old Dawson ! " he exclaimed it was 
 a relief perhaps, to transfer his still vibrating 
 emotions to another sphere " he got talking 
 in the office this morning about his boy it's 
 frightful that after all these years a man can 
 suffer like that over the loss of a child. He 
 said to me : ' There's my wife ; she has an 
 outfit of beliefs that comfort her. She thinks 
 she knows that somewhere there is a God, and 
 that He's keeping her boy for her. I'd sing 
 and shout all day long if I believed that. You 
 couldn't keep me still. What's the matter with 
 these religious people who say they believe all 
 the things a man wants to believe? ' You know 
 how he talks, Charda, when he gets going. He 
 said he would give anything to be able to think 
 he believed what his wife did, but that he would 
 never lie to himself for the sake of peace." 
 
 Homf rey was silent for some moments ; then 
 he added : " That's what I call a good man." 
 
 Richarda looked at her husband, as Dawson 
 had often looked and wondered. 
 
 For here was a man who had started in life 
 with many of the elements which go to the mak- 
 ing of a brilliant scamp given a certain rare 
 quality of temptation. And yet, at forty-five, 
 Homfrey presented to the world a character
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 which might have passed as the product of 
 prayer and much fasting. Dawson questioned 
 often whether he owed his increasing sensitive- 
 ness to ethical values to the transparent truth- 
 fulness of his wife's nature. For Richarda was 
 incapable of the petty subterfuges the in- 
 competent lies by the very futility of which 
 many good women argue themselves unperjured 
 the telling of a lie which accomplishes its end 
 being surely a sin, but the telling of one Avhich 
 ultimately proves ineffective, being, from their 
 point of view, a certain testimony to the incor- 
 ruptible uprightness of their souls. 
 
 But if Homfrey's nature had in it the germs 
 of the scamp, it had also a pre-destination 
 towards a rigid elegance of thought and action 
 a species of refined righteousness not inevi- 
 tably the result of prayer and much fasting. 
 
 The world had gone very well with him, but 
 only lately had he been able to feel that the ele- 
 ments of peace had entered his home to abide 
 there. He was able deliberately to drop the 
 boy Jack from his thoughts, now that he so 
 rarely saw him ; Richarda might go to Waverley 
 when she would ; he had nothing to say to that. 
 When the first summer vacation after the boy 
 had entered college became due, he and Richarda 
 134
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 and Dick were already far on their way to for- 
 eign wanderings, and Jack had entered the 
 Summer School, for he meant to graduate in 
 three years if possible ; he was impatient to feel 
 free of Homfrey's beneficence, and he pictured 
 to himself frequently a scene of great dignity 
 when he should repay all that he had cost a 
 hostile patron. 
 
 But in that view, he wronged Homfrey, who 
 had never regarded that expenditure as other 
 than his wife's. If she chose to use her money 
 for such purpose, well and good ; the affair was 
 none of his. He would have scorned to make it 
 difficult for her to do as she desired. His in- 
 come had become a large one, but he was a man 
 of exclusive taste, and not tempted to spend for 
 spectacular effect he spent only when money 
 got for him what he desired never for the 
 sake of impressing his neighbours with the fact 
 that he could have what he did not want. And 
 as, upon this point, Richarda and he were of 
 one mind, they were relieved of the burden of 
 keeping up a vain show in order to indicate 
 their importance to people who were of no im- 
 portance to them. 
 
 But when it came to the question of his wife's 
 rights as to money, Homfrey was liberal to the 
 135
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 point of extravagance. It had become a rule of 
 life with him, to remember that when he married 
 her, he had not bought her conscience with his 
 wedding-fee. He realised that he had been 
 forced to that point of view by a woman strong 
 enough to hold her own against him, but his 
 consciousness of this was not bitter. For in 
 his outlook upon life he had entered into the 
 possession of a breadth of vision that lifted him 
 at times into the ranks of the saints and the 
 seers. 
 
 136
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 When the Homfreys reached home after a 
 delightfully wearisome foreign trip, there was 
 a letter from Jack waiting to welcome Rich- 
 arda. He enclosed a poem ; as she read it she 
 had a bewildered feeling that something must 
 have happened to Jack since she saw him last 
 this was not Jack the boy, whose ways and 
 thoughts she knew so well. This poem might 
 have been written by a man of any age ; it pro- 
 claimed a range of experience possible only for 
 the boy to possess imaginatively, but what an 
 endowment this indicated ! 
 
 Her pride was touched ; it was inevitable that 
 she should show the poem to Homfrey. 
 
 He glanced at it. " Oh, he's in that 
 stage ! " then he laid it down, but partly read. 
 
 She bit her lip. " Oh, Tim, don't you see 
 how clever it is ? " 
 
 Homfrey smiled. " What a gift of idealis- 
 ing you have, Charda. Of course it's clever. 
 A boy in his twenties is prone to just that sort 
 of cleverness. Naturally, I hope for your sake 
 137
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 that the youngster will go on and immortalise 
 himself, which is what you evidently expect of 
 him. But that would make you unendurable to 
 live with you'd be so everlastingly proud of 
 your discernment for the rest of your life." 
 
 Richarda smiled. But she showed no more 
 poems to Homfrey. 
 
 The next day she had a long-distance talk 
 with Jack; his vociferous pleasure in the mere 
 sound of her voice, warmed her heart. 
 
 " Oh, I'm up to my eyes in everything," he 
 said joyously. " It's great to live in such a 
 rush. Wish I could see you though. Tell you 
 what you come out on Saturday morning 
 we play Chicago in the afternoon you'd love 
 that. Then we'll have dinner at the house with 
 all the fellows great ! All right ! I'll meet 
 the eleven-forty. And say, you'll look your 
 very stunningest, won't you, Lady? " 
 
 She laughed. " I'll do what I can." 
 
 When she stepped from the car on Saturday 
 morning, and was caught by a tall boy in a 
 whirlwind of question and embrace, she knew by 
 the look in his eyes eyes that said easily dan- 
 gerously much that she was approved. 
 
 " Oh. Gee!" he exclaimed when he had disen- 
 tangled her from the crowd a crowd typical 
 138
 
 of an approaching great game and was able 
 to stand admiringly aloof from her : " Aren't 
 you great ! " 
 
 She laughed like a girl his high spirits 
 were infectious. 
 
 " Oh Jack, it's so good to see you, and aren't 
 you splendid ! " 
 
 They both laughed; it was all like old times 
 again, and the sun was shining with a soft No- 
 vember radiance that put its brassy summer-time 
 brilliance to shame. 
 
 " We'll drive up but put the top down, 
 George," he said to the coloured man, who 
 awaited them, open door in hand. " I don't 
 often have a chance to show myself in such 
 company," he added explanatorily. 
 
 They got in, and after a moment's delay, were 
 followed by a woman and a girl of unmistake- 
 ably rural appearance. Richarda looked at 
 Jack. 
 
 " Oh, that's all right. We share our privi- 
 leges here," he said gaily. " Tell me where 
 did you get that hat ? " 
 
 " In Paris." She made an attempt at pri- 
 vacy of tone. 
 
 " Paris ! Well, it hits the bull's eye every 
 time. And the suit ? " 
 
 139
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " In Paris, too," she murmured. Mother and 
 maid now gazed at her with stolid eyes. 
 
 " Gee ! Don't I wish you were ticketed. But 
 to the initiated you are, and the rest don't 
 count." 
 
 Like a pair of irresponsible children, they 
 broke into a fresh peal of mirth, while the slow 
 moving eyes opposite frankly and laboriously 
 traversed Richarda's outfit, with the evident ob- 
 ject of impressing its " stylishness " upon minds 
 which were open to influences from " Paris." 
 
 " Do let us behave," said Richarda weakly. 
 " This is awful, Jack. You corrupt my morals." 
 
 " Well, did you ever hear the likes of that? " 
 demanded Jack of the space between the heads 
 of the two women. " Especially when you hap- 
 pen to remember 
 
 ' Who taught me how to lie and steal, 
 And sneaking blow to swiftly deal ? ' ' 
 
 he paused; then added with uplifted benedic- 
 tory hand: 
 
 " My Mother ! ' " 
 
 The mother opposite was transformed into a 
 graven image. 
 
 " Jack, you're impossible." 
 " Yes, ain't I ? " For a moment he drooped, 
 140
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 a spectacle of repentance; then he revived and 
 said brightly : " I musn't forget to mention it, 
 now that we're alone. I've got engaged to three 
 girls. What do you think we had better do 
 about it?" 
 
 " Arrest you on the charge of an intention 
 to bigamize, I should think." 
 
 " But I don't want to marry them all, really. 
 I'm far too shy to propose to any girl, but in 
 this match factory, that doesn't matter the 
 girls do that, and when they ask me to be theirs, 
 I haven't the heart to refuse them. I don't 
 know what to do about it. If they'd only con- 
 sent to draw lots for me! But they won't. 
 They all want me, and won't take any other, 
 even though warranted just as good, and guar- 
 anteed for one year. It's awful to be the object 
 of three unrequited female affections." 
 
 " Jack, be quiet," said Richarda. The rural 
 mother looked now as if she contemplated get- 
 ting out at the next corner. 
 
 " Yes'M," lisped Jack meekly. 
 
 After a pause Richarda inquired : " Do you 
 know everybody ? " His hat was more fre- 
 quently off his head than on. 
 
 " No, not every one," he admitted. Then he 
 added naively : " I'm rather popular, Lady." 
 141
 
 She smiled ; her soft eyes said sweet things, 
 and he was happy. 
 
 They left the carriage at the campus, and 
 loitered up the Lake Walk in the sunshine 
 then sat down outside the library, and watched 
 the ebb and flow about them. Women and men, 
 boys and girls, hurrying, sauntering ; grave and 
 gay it seemed to Richarda that there passed 
 in review before her every possible type of stu- 
 dent. The girls were generally of the sort 
 pre-destined to the earning of bread-and-butter ; 
 they did not impress her as apt to be ensnarers 
 of young affections. 
 
 " I haven't seen a pretty one yet," she re- 
 marked at last. 
 
 " Tisn't any place for pretty girls," said 
 Jack shortly. " Anybody's a fool who lets a 
 pretty girl come to a place like this. Maybe 
 she has a good time all right Oh sure ! But 
 she'll be spoilt all right, too. Some funny 
 things happen here, Lady." 
 
 Richarda felt a chill; she knew that Jack 
 must be growing in the knowledge of many 
 things fronr which instinctively she would have 
 shielded him. But it had to come. She sighed 
 as she thought that a pure woman knows her 
 purity impregnable, but the man !
 
 " Why do they have co-education then? " she 
 asked lamely. 
 
 " The devil is supposed to know," said Jack. 
 " But I know this that if I had a sister, she'd 
 never come here." 
 
 A group of fellows came by ; Jack excused 
 himself and joined them, and was instantly the 
 central figure among them " Homfrey ! " 
 again and again she heard the name, and it came 
 to her with force that the name this boy bore 
 would never be borne inconspicuously ; it was 
 small wonder that he wished to be able to ac- 
 count for himself. She felt a sudden desperate 
 fear. There was no chance of keeping a boy 
 like this in the safe seclusion of mediocrity. 
 This was the rare creature of which the world 
 one day takes notice, and straightway demands 
 information. It would fall upon her to make 
 answer, and what should she say? 
 
 She began to tremble, and she was tired of 
 being afraid. She wondered what it would be 
 like if she went home to-night, and walked into 
 the library and sat down beside Homfrey, and 
 just told him the story. Ah, she knew! It 
 would be like walking off the edge of her 
 world. 
 
 Jack hurried back to her. " Look quick ! 
 143
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 down the Lake Walk. It's Maxwell coming. 
 He's the whole thing here. Look at him ! Oh, 
 he's used to being stared at he expects it." 
 
 Richarda looked, and saw, coming slowly 
 towards the library entrance a man of perhaps 
 forty-five a man at first gaze dark and heavy 
 of face, with a powerful figure, and a walk that 
 was a glorified slouch. He looked neither to the 
 right nor to the left ; his eyes were fixed on the 
 walk before him, but he came on like a Jugger- 
 naut with a manner that was an unconscious 
 proclamation : " Get out of my way, or be 
 damned if you don't." 
 
 As he drew nearer, Richarda saw that his jaw 
 looked as if clamped to his face, yet the line of 
 it was delicately sensitive. His eyes for he 
 lifted them and threw a glance at her and a 
 curt nod to Homfrey as he passed, and then an- 
 other glance at her, openly admiring, bold, and 
 indifferent his eyes were deep and melan- 
 choly. The whole man was in them the pessi- 
 mist, dulled of enthusiasm by despair; the ideal- 
 ist, forever in quest of the Grail. 
 
 But the casual observer saw nothing of this 
 
 to him, the noted professor merely appeared 
 more of a gentleman and a rake than was quite 
 seemly for a man who had the reputation of a 
 
 144
 
 ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 scholar, and the respectability of Waverly as a 
 background. 
 
 Two girls, evidently " co-eds " sat down on 
 the bench beside Richarda. " Isn't he awful? " 
 said one. " I don't see why they keep him here. 
 I call him the Sulky Mastiff." 
 
 " The boys like him." 
 
 "The boys? yes, I guess they do. Per- 
 haps they wouldn't like him so well if he stopped 
 guying the women. I call it a cheap way for a 
 man to make himself popular." 
 
 " Well, there's one thing he slams the Fac- 
 ulty about as badly as he does the women." 
 
 " That's true," remarked Jack as he and 
 Richarda walked away. " He seems to bunch 
 the women and the Faculty together on the prin- 
 ciple that they all, like sheep, are fools, and only 
 fit to bleat." 
 
 " But how can he ? Doesn't he get into trou- 
 ble? " 
 
 " Maybe," said Jack cheerfully. " He has to 
 pass the time somehow, you know. I've only 
 had him since the beginning of this semester 
 he doesn't teach freshmen. There's a regular 
 Maxwell cult here. Their creed is: I believe in 
 the Devil, destroyer of heaven and earth, and in 
 Donald Maxwell, his you-be-damned " he 
 145
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 broke off with a laugh "I guess that's enough, 
 Lady. You'll think Waverley an awful place. 
 Don't worry." 
 
 But she looked at him anxiously. There 
 seemed to be more things in college education 
 than she had dreamed of. 
 
 But, later in the day, she forgot her fears, 
 and shouted with the rest of the mob, and was 
 cheerfully almost suffocated when Jack clutched 
 her in an unconscious embrace during a moment 
 of breathless suspense; she exulted in the bar- 
 baric cries : " Tear 'em up ! Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! 
 Weeks ! Weeks ! Weeks ! " and the next mo- 
 ment her feet were keeping time to the fierce 
 rhythm of a song which rose to the open sky 
 with the ma j estic sweep of a Credo : Hurrah for 
 the Yellow and the Blue. 
 
 She laughed until she nearly cried at the stu- 
 dent behind her who had the voice of a bron- 
 chitic rooster, and who persistently crowed in her 
 ear with an inimitably malicious accent: 
 " Who's got the goods ? Waverley's got the 
 goods, Chicago, Chicago, Chicago ! " the in- 
 flexion rendering the cry a unique example of 
 what may be accomplished with a simple jeer. 
 
 But she turned her head away and moaned 
 146
 
 when some hero lay prostrate murdered it 
 was j ust that ! it was a game for brutes ! It 
 was brutes too, who revived him with buckets of 
 cold water she could never have believed that 
 men could be so cruel. No one should ever 
 bring her to see another game. 
 
 And then she stood on her toes and shouted 
 with the rest when the damaged champion limped 
 back to his post. . 
 
 She watched the coach with a fascinated eye 
 he had a strange way of squatting on his 
 heels and chewing at his cigar, while his hat went 
 steadily further back on his head. She had 
 heard a great deal about his smile when the 
 local papers ran short of news they filled in with 
 a caricature of it and she studied it atten- 
 tively, wondering what use he made of it in pri- 
 vate life. It was a mask which doubtless am- 
 bushed a real man, but it appeared to have 
 become a habit. 
 
 A freight-train went crunching by on drag- 
 ging wheels, the engine-driver and his mates 
 hanging from it as greedy for the spectacle as 
 the lesser urchin wedging his eye through a knot- 
 hole in the fence. It left behind it a black trail 
 of smoke with which the light wind played, chas- 
 ing it higher and higher, until it was lost be- 
 147
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 yond the hills where the shadows were growing 
 purple against the coming of the sunset. 
 
 " What a sky ! " exclaimed Richarda suddenly. 
 
 " Yes. Isn't the whole thing an anomalous 
 setting for this ? " Jack waved a hand which 
 took in the lovely bit of country which lay just 
 outside that mob-encircling fence. Then he 
 shouted : " Rah ! Rah ! Rah ! " 
 
 It was indeed. The hoarse cries, the deliri- 
 ous outbursts of the band, the " locomotive " 
 yell, the surge to their feet of the thousands of 
 human beings on the grand-stand and the 
 bleachers a movement so instantaneous as to 
 seem the expression of a single will ; the frenzied 
 fluttering of blue and yellow and red and white 
 banners ; the braying of tin horns ; the wide- 
 spread tumult of Waverley gathered into a 
 mighty roar, of which the weak but heroic 
 " rooting " of the under-dogs sounded like faint- 
 est echo there was indeed a wide discrepancy 
 between scene and setting. 
 
 But Richarda too, forgot all about the glory 
 of the autumn day. She hung, one in soul with 
 the multitude, upon the white, nerve-steeled face 
 of Waverley's idolised captain, little Weeks 
 his head thrown far back, his wild eyes seeming 
 to wrest the goal from the skies and then, the 
 148
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 signals, sharp as if snapped from a gun, and 
 after that ! 
 
 " They'll be killed I know they will," she 
 wailed. 
 
 But she was shouting again before she had 
 finished thinking that ; she did not understand 
 why she shouted she only knew that she must. 
 Everyone was shouting, and the band was play- 
 ing as if it were drunk : " There'll be a Hot 
 Time in the Old Town To-night," while the men 
 who a moment ago had looked as if they were 
 being ground in a merciless machine, were run- 
 ning off the field with the unconcerned air of 
 those who know themselves numbered among the 
 great. 
 
 Two minutes later she was wedged in the midst 
 of the mass which oozed as one substance through 
 the gate ; everyone was talking. 
 
 " Greatest punt ever seen on earth, Hom- 
 frey ! " said a man who had upon him the well- 
 worn stamp of the professor. 
 
 " You bet ! "- exclaimed Jack. " And there's 
 Kearney crying like a child because it's his last 
 game, but I tell you I told him just now, it's 
 something to leave college with the record of a 
 punt like that behind you." 
 
 " Good enough ! " said the professor, sol- 
 emnly. 
 
 149
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda smiled. But her smile was benevo- 
 lent; she had had her own attack of frenzied 
 foot-ball. 
 
 But by the time Jack returned to the hotel, to 
 take her to the fraternity house, she was feeling 
 somewhat grave. She was ashamed to remember 
 how absurdly excited she had been over that 
 game. What could you expect of boys and 
 girls if a woman of her age had so little bal- 
 ance? she wondered what safe-guards there 
 were here to protect them against the too easy 
 enthusiasms and emotions of youth. Nothing 
 not even a stile to climb so far as she had 
 seen. 
 
 The fraternity house charmed her the 
 quaint, many-gabled, wide-fronted building set 
 back against the woods which were the pride of 
 the little town. 
 
 " Oh, what a place! Don't you love it?" 
 she asked impulsively of the first man who was 
 introduced to her. 
 
 " Guess we do," he answered simply, but in a 
 tone that she understood. 
 
 The big room was full of fellows; Jack 
 brought them up to her one after the other, and 
 they bravely essayed the part of host with vary- 
 ing degrees of ease. She talked engineering to 
 150
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 one Professor Maxwell to another sympa- 
 thised with a third over the lamentable ignorance 
 of the men in the English department dis- 
 cussed arboriculture with a forestry enthusiast, 
 and the best method of developing the beet sugar 
 industry with a youthful expert in chemistry. 
 When she found herself listening as if her life 
 depended upon it to an appallingly technical 
 exposition of the latest developments of electrical 
 science, she was tempted to wonder whether all 
 these nice boys saw what a fool she was making 
 of herself when she answered: "Yes, I see. 
 Why, of course." For she saw nothing. But, 
 thank heaven ! they took themselves seriously 
 and her too, and she concluded that she must be 
 conducting herself with all the appearance of 
 intelligence that was necessary, when she over- 
 heard the engineer whisper to the forester: 
 " Isn't she a peach ! " 
 
 She could have purred with content; she was 
 so anxious to please these boys for Jack's 
 sake. 
 
 Several girls, who, like herself, had been in- 
 vited to dinner, were introduced to her, and for 
 the moment the face of one held her, but then 
 she forgot it ; she could only think of these 
 boys it fascinated her to watch them, and to 
 wonder what lay behind and before. 
 151
 
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 At dinner she found herself next to a big, 
 broad-shouldered law student, who was taking 
 a post-graduate course and who had been right 
 end on the first great foot-ball team that Wav- 
 erley had put in the field. At first he could say 
 very little to her, as it was his duty to carve, so 
 she contented herself with admiring the fine 
 square-cut head, the straight blue eyes, the pa- 
 tient lips, and the strong chin. The hands, too 
 
 they were so sure, yet instinctively, she felt 
 that they would be tender with frail things. 
 This man was clearly of no common grain. 
 Generations of righteous living and thinking 
 must have gone to the making of so highly 
 graded a human product. 
 
 Hutchinson turned to her at last with a slow 
 smile. " Have you met my pal, Mr. McGilli- 
 vray? " he asked. " He's down there, the third 
 from the end. Yes, if you have, you know that 
 he's daft about Robert Burns. Funny, isn't it? 
 
 what curious hobbies the sanest men get. 
 He's prowled all about Scotland, making tracks 
 in Robert's foot-prints worked his way over 
 in a cattle-ship to do it. He's a law too. You 
 don't expect that sort to be sentimental about 
 anything, do you? " 
 
 Richarda had perceived at once, that, like 
 152
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Dawson, Hutchinson was a monologist ; but she 
 could not let this pass. " I expect any sort of 
 man whatever to be sentimental," she flashed at 
 him. 
 
 " Oh, do you now ? " the slow smile broke 
 delightfully over his face. " But take me. 
 There isn't a trace of sentiment about me 
 honest ! But most of the fellows Oh yes ! 
 get them around the fire-place here at night, 
 and give them a pipe and a little time to thaw, 
 and pretty soon they're all moaning away on 
 the all-absorbing topic. All but me. I just 
 listen. I guess it's about the only time I ever 
 do listen. But there's never anything I want to 
 say about some things in a crowd. And girls 
 well, there's Betty Carter " Richarda fol- 
 lowed his eyes down the table, and saw, next to 
 Jack, the girl whose face had made upon her 
 an impression that was instantly renewed 
 " Half the fellows here are crazy over her, and 
 the rest aren't, only because they have been. 
 All but me. Betty only amuses me." 
 
 " She's very popular, then," said Richarda 
 slowly; she was looking at the girl again. 
 
 " Popular ! she's a regular mowing-ma- 
 chine. It's funny what a fool the most sen- 
 sible fellow will make of himself over Betty." 
 153
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 The girl was talking to Jack with the demure- 
 ness of a nun, but she was a blaze of seductive 
 colour there was no conventual chill upon her 
 lips or in her eyes. Her thick brown hair grew 
 low upon a forehead which was as calm as a 
 Madonna's ; it was wonderful hair the sort of 
 which a boy dreams. 
 
 " I don't think I like her," said Richarda, 
 
 Hutchinson laughed. " Do you always ex- 
 press your opinions as frankly as that? " 
 
 " I never do. But you're a lawyer. You 
 won't tell." 
 
 He laughed again, and then talked on in his 
 quiet, unhurried way, discussing a variety of 
 subjects with the sureness of judgment which 
 impressed her as an inheritance from a long line 
 of just men. When the boys sang, he was si- 
 lent ; she looked at him, and saw that his mouth 
 was the firmly set kind that never sings. A 
 hymn tune ? yes, he might grind through that, 
 safely anchored to one note, but these gay, 
 swinging songs were not for him. 
 
 " I'm fond of music," he said simply. " But 
 though I hear those songs every day, I never am 
 quite sure which is which. Queer" isn't it? 
 They tell me I can't sing, and just look at 
 Hefty ! He's a regular music-box." 
 154
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Why do you call him Hefty? ' " 
 
 " Because he's so light-minded." 
 
 " Light-minded? " 
 
 " That's not a criticism," he said quickly. 
 " We're very proud of Hefty." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 He laughed. " Aren't you? " 
 
 " That's different." 
 
 " No, it's just the same. You adore Hefty 
 because you can't help it. You feel sort of 
 tender over Hefty, as you would over a child. 
 He's such a beautiful thing." 
 
 " Go on, please," said Richarda. " It's so 
 interesting to me to hear what someone else 
 thinks of Jack." 
 
 " He's the most perfect specimen of human 
 bric-a-brac I've ever come across. He's purely 
 ornamental. I often tell him so. Oh, that's all 
 right, you know." Hutchinson looked at her 
 anxiously. " Some people have to be that 
 sort." 
 
 Richarda laughed. " You seem to have 
 thought a great deal about him." 
 
 " You can't help thinking about him. He's 
 always the centre of the picture. Look at him 
 now ! He's posing he always is." 
 
 "Jack?" 
 
 155
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " But he doesn't pose to deceive you, or to 
 please you. He poses because it fascinates 
 him." 
 
 Richarda laughed. " You're interesting me. 
 And you've fooled me, which is something 
 I'm always grateful for. I had no idea you 
 were as dangerous an analyst as you seem to 
 be." 
 
 " I knew you hadn't, and I thought it my 
 duty to undeceive you. I'm painfully honest. 
 At least, Hefty says so. Perhaps I ought to 
 add, that if you want to know what I really 
 think of Hefty, he can tell you. He knows." 
 
 There was an instantaneous stir; everyone 
 rose, and led by Jack the boys sang their Fra- 
 ternity Song. Richarda was thrilled the 
 voices were young and fresh, but the faces were 
 so serious. Until this moment the fraternity 
 idea had impressed her as a sort of game at good- 
 fellowship; she began to understand the signifi- 
 cance of the bond to these enthusiastic souls as 
 she listened to this song sung with such dirge- 
 like solemnity. 
 
 She looked at one face after the other to- 
 day boys, to-morrow men. What lay before 
 them in the future of which they sang? Which 
 was to know happiness ? which, sorrow ? Pov- 
 156
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 erty, riches success, failure honour, dis- 
 grace to each was allotted his portion. 
 
 Ah ! she would have liked to reach out her 
 hand and stay this ark of safety. For the 
 world, towards which their eager eyes were set, 
 was like a great mill full of strange machinery, 
 and from it they would one day be cast out, each 
 with his own scar. 
 
 The last note died away there was a mo- 
 ment of silence; then a girl's soft laugh, fol- 
 lowed by a general outbreak of talking and a 
 movement of scattering groups towards the big 
 room, where huge logs were blazing on a deep 
 hearth ; for it was November, and the evening air 
 was chill. 
 
 Richarda sat down in the ingle-nook. " Run 
 away," she said gaily to Hutchinson, " And play 
 with the girls. I mean it. I want just to look 
 at the whole thing, please. At you, too." 
 
 " I'd rather stay," he said. 
 
 But she smiled at him, and he went. 
 
 And she sat there, so glad to be alone; she 
 wanted to think, here with these boys and girls 
 before her. They must go out into life they 
 must prove themselves in it. The blind inexperi- 
 ence and innocence of youth was not worthy to 
 be ranked with the knowledge that knew itself 
 157
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 at any cost to be the truth. She wished she 
 could tell them not to be afraid of the problems 
 that might come to them nor of the sorrows ; 
 life was so simple when one was unafraid. 
 
 She sat there, so still, her thoughts circling 
 far, but they came home, at last, as they always 
 did, to Homfrey. And a strange joy of living 
 overflowed her heart; in the midst of this gay 
 chatter and laughter she dreamed that she was 
 alone with the man she loved it was a supreme 
 moment, for at last he knew, and she was no 
 longer afraid. 
 
 And just then, from away across the room, the 
 face of Betty Carter smote sharp across her 
 vision of joy; the girl was looking at Jack; 
 there was something in her face that Richarda 
 had never seen in the face of a girl before. She 
 shivered, but without understanding. 
 
 And then she smiled. For Jack crossed the 
 room, and sat down beside her. 
 
 158
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Richarda read and re-read the telegram: 
 Meet me on the nine-thirty to-night. Hattie 
 Lewin. 
 
 " Why, she must be on her way through to 
 San Francisco," she said to Homf rey. " And 
 that's certainly a complete change in her plans, 
 for in her last letter to me, she said she was 
 going to Florida with the Mayos. Perhaps Mr. 
 Lewin is ill. She said he seemed to have lost his 
 grip ever since she refused to let him go abroad 
 with her last year." 
 
 " That woman is an unplucked brand,"' said 
 Homfrey. " I'd like to be Tommy's domestic 
 adviser for a while. He needs more law than 
 gospel to manage her." 
 
 When the nine-thirty train pulled in at the 
 Central Depot some hours later, the Homfreys 
 were there to met it ; they waited at the gate until 
 the throng had thinned to a straggling few, and 
 then feeling somewhat anxious as Mrs. Lewin did 
 not appear, they walked toward the end of the 
 159
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 train, and found her hanging from the steps of 
 her car, eagerly looking for them. 
 
 " But Hattie, you're coming home with us ? " 
 asked Richarda. 
 
 " My dear, no! I'm just tearing through to 
 Tommy. Haven't you heard? Mr. Homfrey, 
 you know." 
 
 Homfrey 's look answered for him. 
 
 " Why, Tommy's failed. Hasn't got a sou 
 left. Went under in the general crash. That's 
 all." 
 
 " But you Why Hattie, I didn't suppose 
 " Richarda paused; she had spoken impul- 
 sively, i 
 
 " You didn't suppose, did you, that I would 
 leave Tommy Lewin alone at a moment like 
 this?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " H'm ! Poor Tommy ! Why, this will about 
 kill him, Charda. He's the soul of honour, you 
 see, though he's the shrewdest man alive. But 
 if he once gets thinking that he's no good, he'll 
 be no good. Nobody has any confidence in a 
 man that hasn't any in himself, and I'm afraid 
 Tommy won't have any now. It's an awful 
 shake-up to a man to fail." 
 
 " And you're really going to him," said Ri- 
 charda ; she was still bewildered. 
 160
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Mrs. Lewin laughed. " Bless your heart, yes ! 
 Why shouldn't I ? Poor Tommy ! I suppose 
 he thinks of me now as probably the most merci- 
 less of his creditors. But I've got things fixed. 
 You see, Lilla came home engaged to an Eng- 
 lishman sort of man who had never realised 
 before he saw me, what a woman might be 
 four sisters of his own, too skirts up in front 
 and down behind you know the kind of Eng- 
 lishwoman I mean. Thank Heaven, Lilla 's the 
 last of the girls, and yesterday I sold Deerfield 
 to Sam Charlton that's Bessie's husband, and 
 father's to go on living there just the same 
 Sam has scads of money and paid me a good 
 round figure for the place. So now, you see, 
 my family is off my hands, and I've got money 
 enough to give Tommy a fighting chance." 
 
 " Hattie, what an extraordinary woman you 
 are!" 
 
 " Oh, I don't know." Mrs. Lewin was silent a 
 moment then in a sudden burst, she said : " Oh 
 Richarda, I've always had such a mean time. 
 We were so awfully poor, and not poor-people. 
 I used to envy our washer-woman. You see, it's 
 much easier to lose your money bang the way 
 Tommy has, in a big crash, and lots of other 
 fellows going down with you, than to lose it, 
 161
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 inch by inch the way Father did and through 
 one error of judgment after another. Mother 
 dare not let people know how poor we were, for 
 fear of injuring Father's credit. When she 
 died she seemed to think I'd manage some way. 
 But I watched those girls growing up, in terror. 
 There was positively nothing for me to do ex- 
 cept marry some man who could pay the bills 
 until I got them settled. My dear, I hope 
 they'll never find out that their husbands have 
 always fallen in love with me first I had to 
 manage it that way, and then tactfully transfer 
 my admirer's affections to the sister I designed 
 him for. It's thankless work, and there never 
 was a woman yet who was grateful to another 
 woman for getting her a husband. If you're 
 wise, you'll everlastingly deny afterwards that 
 you had a thing to do with it." 
 
 " What a clever woman you are, Hattie ! I 
 wonder if there's any emergency that you 
 couldn't manage somehow." 
 
 " Perhaps not. But I've been dealing with 
 emergencies all my life. You haven't. Every- 
 thing has been smooth for yon. Dull, I should 
 call it." Mrs. Lewin threw a saucy glance at 
 Homfrey. " You've always had a man at your 
 back. But I've had to be the man. That suits 
 162
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 me all right, though I'm not complaining, 
 and just now I've got something to do that's 
 worth doing. For I don't believe for one mo- 
 ment, that without his mother and without me, 
 Tommy Lewin would ever get on his feet again. 
 Mind you, that old mother of his was a great 
 character. I've heard Tommy say she made his 
 father. You know, I'd been having the blues 
 awfully just before I got this news about 
 Tommy. The only living thing I had any in- 
 terest in was my clothes, and I didn't see that 
 that was going to keep a woman like me content. 
 I almost wished I had the girls all to marry off 
 over again. There, we're off, and I haven't let 
 you say a word. But I couldn't, Charda. I 
 wanted you to understand." 
 
 " What a woman ! " exclaimed Richarda as 
 they walked away. " Who could have believed 
 that she could turn around like this ! " 
 
 " Oh, she's a remarkable woman," said Hom- 
 f rev drily so drily in fact that Richarda said 
 nothing further to him about Mrs. Lewin until 
 some evenings later when he was comfortably 
 settled with a cigar, and had finished undis- 
 turbed his perusal of the evening paper. 
 
 " Hattie will have reached San Francisco 
 to-day," she said musingly. " I wonder what 
 Mr. Lewin thinks of her now. 
 163
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " She's only doing what any decent wife ought 
 to do." 
 
 Richarda laughed. " But you see, Tim, she 
 isn't a decent wife. All the same, she's worth 
 two of most wives the sort you would prob- 
 ably call decent." 
 
 " She isn't," said Homfrey calmly. " She's 
 a wilful, selfish, highly capable woman. Mind 
 you, I'm not saying that, under all the circum- 
 stances, she's not the best wife for Lewin to have. 
 But as a woman ? No thanks ! She's self-as- 
 serting and irritating. She should have been a 
 man." 
 
 " Oh, that sort of woman you're thinking of 
 is the same old sort men always think they ad- 
 mire. And that sort would just have been 
 crushed by this disaster, and would only be an 
 awful burden to Tommy Lewin." 
 
 " Oh, I grant you it'll be Lewin & Co. all 
 right, with the tail wagging the dog. She's a 
 remarkable woman I admit it. But all the 
 same, I would rather have your little finger " 
 he broke off, and they both laughed. 
 
 " Dear, you're very sweet," said Richarda 
 lightly very lightly, for such tribute from 
 Homfrey was rare. 
 
 They were so little given to demonstration; 
 164
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 had either required that of the other, it might 
 have proved a menace to happiness. Homfrey's 
 critical taste would have rendered him intolerant 
 of the frequent emphasis of emotion in the most 
 emotional of human relationships ; the woman 
 who was his wife had had the performing of no 
 easy task in the binding to herself of this man at 
 once so passionate and so critical of passion. 
 But she had learnt, by what divine magic her 
 darkest hours alone knew, how to hold a man of 
 a temperament which but for her, might never 
 have found haven. Yet even now, after long 
 years, there came upon her occasionally times of 
 wild outburst, when the smothered ache refused 
 to be stilled when the illusive ideals of her 
 girlhood cried aloud for revenge upon the double 
 meanings of life. 
 
 So she laughed lightly when Homfrey kissed 
 the tip of her finger the finger for which he 
 professed such devotion and then she sat still, 
 looking at him, thinking about him intently. 
 And she began again asking herself the question 
 she had asked a thousand times : What high pur- 
 pose in the making of this man would have been 
 served by the revelation to him of his dishonour? 
 she had never felt herself able to judge what 
 the effect of it would have been. But one thing 
 165
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 she did know, and that was, that admission 
 between them of the relation of Jack to himself, 
 would have destroyed all possibility of that high 
 conception of marriage which to-day governed 
 the nature of their affection for each other. To 
 be aware that he, looking at her, understood that 
 she had lost her first innocent faith in the man 
 to whom she had surrendered, and must still sur- 
 render herself, would have been the utmost agony 
 of degradation to her far crueller than any- 
 thing she had suffered as it was. For in mar- 
 riage he had become to her a new creature the 
 man dignified and exalted by the mystery of that 
 oneness through which his life became more hers 
 than her own. 
 
 Thus had she idealised the bond by which the 
 flesh of man and woman is held captive, and to- 
 day she believed that he was what he was be- 
 cause she had saved him from realising what he 
 had been. 
 
 " That boy Dick's a curious chap," said Hom- 
 frey suddenly. " I haven't got the key to his 
 mind. Sometimes you'd hardly believe he was 
 my son. It irritates me " he paused " We 
 don't seem to touch at any point. There's no 
 elasticity in his mental make-up he sees 
 things his way and no other. Oh, that's always 
 166
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 a powerful stand to take, and I fancy he is go- 
 ing to have the force to make it go, but it isn't 
 my stand, and I never can comprehend how a 
 man reaches it. It's a curious thing " Hom- 
 f rey spoke slowly " but positively, if I liked 
 him which I need hardly say I don't 
 there's something so confoundedly cocksure 
 about him but if I did like him why, that 
 boy Jack of yours " 
 
 Richarda looked at Homfrey. 
 
 " Don't you see, Charda, it's that that 
 makes him so unendurable to me." Homfrey 
 had never talked like this to Richarda before ; 
 he was surprised and reassured to find that he 
 could. " He seems to have a passion for doing 
 the kind of things I would do, just the way I 
 would do them. Haven't you ever noticed 
 that?" 
 
 Richarda picked up the work she had 
 dropped; the needle blundered in her fingers. 
 " I'm sorry about Dick," she said tremulously. 
 " Perhaps when he's older " but she stopped ; 
 the effort to appear calm was making too great 
 demand upon her. 
 
 " Why, my darling ! " exclaimed Homfrey 
 impulsively : " You didn't think I meant to be 
 hard on Dick, did you? Bless your heart! 
 167
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Dick's my boy, and he's tremendous stuff. He's 
 going to be worth two of his father. I'm jeal- 
 ous that's what's the matter with me. As 
 for the other chap " he snapped his fingers 
 contemptuously " he's as adaptable as a mon- 
 key on a stick. With him it's a matter of cheap 
 imitation. I suppose I ought to feel compli- 
 mented by his choice of me as model, but after 
 all, I should like to feel that he had some justifi- 
 cation for his impudence." 
 
 As adaptable as a monkey on a stick! 
 
 Richarda sat still, but something cried aloud 
 in her as it had never cried before, that she must 
 tell Homfrey the truth that for the sake of 
 justice Justice ! she hated the word. 
 
 Yes, but for a man to speak so of his own 
 son? She must tell Homfrey the truth. 
 
 But the moments passed, and she said nothing. 
 For out of the confusion of her thoughts, there 
 arose the memory of that first time after her 
 great awakening to the truth about Homfrey 
 - that first time when to her horror, she had felt 
 again stirring in herself that longing for his 
 touch, for the murmured tenderness of his pas- 
 sion that strange weakness which proclaimed 
 her, against her will, his. And innocent ap- 
 palled and outraged by this revelation of mys- 
 168
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 teries within her nature to which she had no 
 clue, she had declared war upon herself. 
 
 It was long before she understood that sim- 
 ple uncomprehended impulse, behind which 
 the tragic forces of marriage were intrenched. 
 And she did not understand now .why the mem- 
 ory of that exquisitely cruel moment held her 
 silent. 
 
 She began to think about Dick ; she did not 
 admit that this was to save her from thinking 
 of the other boy. Dick presented himself to her 
 as one of those contradictions of heredity which 
 set at nought all certainty of deduction. A 
 saner, serener human being than young Richard 
 Homfrey would have been difficult of discovery ; 
 he knew no moods; his days moved on in the 
 grooves allotted to them, with never a sound of 
 the grinding of temperamental wheels. For 
 years Richarda had waited for some revelation 
 in his character of that storm in herself upon 
 which he had been nourished, but there had been 
 as yet no evidences of it, and she felt herself 
 impelled to believe that Nature, ever seeking to 
 express herself in perfect forms, had high pow- 
 ers in the protecting of that mystery of promise 
 destined to be a little child. Good was forever 
 triumphing over evil ; the meanest mother trans- 
 169
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 mitted to her child qualities that made for the 
 eternal triumph of righteousness. 
 
 And this theory accounted not only for her 
 own boy, but for Jack Jack with his gentle- 
 manly grace and easy goodness of character. 
 
 Adaptable as a monkey on a stick her face 
 flamed it was cruel. 
 
 " Tim ! " 
 
 Homf rey turned in his chair. " Well ? " he 
 said smiling. 
 
 " Ah, I can't." 
 
 He hardly caught the words. 
 
 "Come what is it?" 
 
 " No no." 
 
 For a moment he looked at her, amused, try- 
 ing to fathom the strange look she had given 
 him, then he turned back to his book ; it was use- 
 less her moods took their rise in so many 
 sources unknown to him. 
 
 Richarda had spent years in perfecting the 
 argument upon which she had based her married 
 life. But there was a flaw in it. She knew 
 that ; she realised that she had protected her 
 husband at the expense of Jack, but that was 
 unavoidable. 
 
 It had become a horror to her to see them to- 
 gether; when there was a question upon which 
 170
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in general terms they had to admit themselves 
 in accord, it seemed as if they could not rest 
 until they fastened upon some detail about which 
 they could disagree. 
 
 From time immemorial the world had made 
 sport of the antagonisms of women it seemed 
 to her that the antagonisms between men ex- 
 pressed themselves in far pettier, meaner man- 
 ner; they dealt each other stealthy blow, and 
 their wounds left not only sting but scar. 
 
 She wondered whether a mother and daughter 
 could have escaped knowledge of each other as 
 did this father and son. 
 
 Of late it had sometimes occurred to her that 
 she was only now beginning to realise what a 
 task she had undertaken when she assumed si- 
 lence as to the relation of these two. Jack as a 
 child had been one thing a comparatively 
 negligible factor in the problem Jack as a 
 man was an entirely different affair. During 
 all these years she had held the elements of this 
 situation controlled in the hollow of her will; 
 she began to fear a future harassed by incalcu- 
 lable forces. And now since this revealing talk 
 of Homfrey's, there arose in her a determina- 
 tion at present unconscious, but shortly to be- 
 come actively operative, to keep this father and 
 171
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 son separate. She had afforded them the op- 
 portunity of propinquity, and nothing in either 
 of them had responded to it. 
 
 So she argued, because she knew herself afraid. 
 For in her soul she understood that as it was with 
 her husband, so it was with the boy in spite 
 of his apparently instinctive dislike of Homfrey, 
 the man had a paradoxical fascination for him. 
 As she calculated the conditions, she realised how 
 dangerously balanced were the forces of attrac- 
 tion and repulsion which Homfrey unconsciously 
 exerted upon his son. She remembered moments 
 when the boy's soul had craved in his eyes for 
 the word of approval he never got the word 
 that she divined would mean more to him than 
 all that she had ever said. 
 
 Thus it was that when Richarda at last fully 
 understood the fact of this mutual attraction 
 and its possible perils in the future, her attitude 
 towards the situation she had herself created 
 underwent sudden and complete change. Her 
 devotion to Jack and his interests remained, but 
 she consciously loosened her hold upon him; she 
 encouraged him to feel himself part of that 
 larger world of knowledge and ambition in 
 which, she smilingly assured him, she had no 
 place. She urged the acceptance of various in- 
 172
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 vitations for his successive vacations with the 
 apposite suggestion that a man's college friend- 
 ships, if wisely made, were apt to prove of in- 
 calculable value and resource in later days. 
 
 So it happened that in the most treacherous 
 period of his development, Jack was left to stand 
 unsteadily alone. 
 
 Richarda had not thought of that. She was 
 sure of Jack ; his career in college so far was 
 starred by triumphs ; she herself had seen enough 
 to know that he was the idol of his fraternity, 
 and who was as critical as fellow students? He 
 had drawn upon himself the attention of Max- 
 well, through an argument in the class-room in 
 which he had maintained his opinion against the 
 professor's, at the imminent risk of being sum- 
 marily silenced. 
 
 " I simply had to, Lady," explained Jack 
 with his most charming air. " He had ignored 
 me as long as I could stand it. You have to 
 take desperate measures with that man, but I 
 reckoned my chances to a word. He has the 
 most impudent way of suggesting to you that 
 he has no use whatever for your brains, and the 
 fellows are all afraid of him, and he knows it. 
 Well " the boy laughed happily " he knows 
 now that I'm not. He's a gentleman though. 
 173
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 When he saw that I did not mean to give in 
 that he could not scare me into shutting up 
 that I had an argument that I understood 
 why Lady, then he talked to me as man to man." 
 Jack flushed and laughed again. 
 
 " What was your argument about ? " asked 
 Richarda. 
 
 " Oh, Maxwell says some pretty extreme 
 things, you know. It's the only way to jog 
 some of the stupid stuff he has to lecture to into 
 thinking at all he has to shock them into it." 
 
 " But truth " 
 
 "Truth? " Jack laughed. "Dear Lady, 
 who knows what that is ? " 
 
 " Is that how that man Maxwell talks to 
 you?" 
 
 Jack shrugged his shoulders. " Does it mat- 
 ter how he talks, when you never know what he 
 means ? " 
 
 " Well ! " the word came with indignant 
 emphasis "I think he ought to know what he 
 means if he undertakes to lecture to young men 
 who need to know what can be believed." 
 
 " Lady " Jack was suddenly grave " I 
 
 heard Maxwell say only yesterday that the world 
 
 has always offered big premiums to the men who 
 
 were ready to swear that they knew, but that it 
 
 174
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 owes no knowledge worth possessing to the men 
 who have bound themselves, by a creed or what 
 not, to believe. But see! you musn't worry 
 about things like that." He laid her hand 
 against his cheek in his old boyish fashion. 
 " The trouble with me, as Maxwell says, is that 
 I believe too easily. He says that I have the 
 temperament that hungers and thirsts after 
 faith, and that it will be a curse to me yet. 
 But I don't know." 
 
 She was still troubled, but she let herself be 
 reassured as to the influences that surrounded 
 him he looked so happy, so honest-eyed 
 she need not fear for him. But presently she 
 said: 
 
 " You haven't sent me a poem for an age." 
 
 " I haven't written any." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Oh Lady, to write poems a man must first 
 think them. 
 
 " And aren't you thinking them? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 He hesitated. " I don't know. The stream 
 just seems to have run dry." He looked dis- 
 turbed. 
 
 " Ah, that won't do. I shan't forgive Pro- 
 175
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 fessor Maxwell if he develops the philosopher at 
 the expense of the poet." 
 
 " Maxwell? Oh, he has nothing to do with 
 it." 
 
 She watched him, musing. The boy was be- 
 coming a man of a character and destiny prob- 
 ably bound for depths beyond her reach. She 
 must have confidence in him, and not seek to 
 hamper him by feminine fear of every new ex- 
 perience into which he entered. 
 
 Thus she eased her shoulders of their burden, 
 and looking out upon the little world of which 
 she had constituted herself Providence, she saw 
 that it was good. 
 
 176
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 There had been a time when Maxwell had 
 cherished each year the hope that his new class 
 would discover to him some intelligence worth 
 labouring with. He knew better now. Of the 
 thousands of students who had passed through 
 his hands, only three had displayed minds of 
 superior order. The mediocrity of the human 
 race was disconcerting, and it was clearly the 
 design of Nature that it should remain medi- 
 ocre ; the law appeared to be that a genius in the 
 family ensured its ultimate extinction. So be it ! 
 Let the fool live, multiply and replenish the 
 earth. Let not the splendid unintelligibility of 
 the Universe be marred ! 
 
 Therefore Maxwell had flouted the thought, 
 when the first suspicion of Homfrey's superiority 
 to his fellows entered his mind. Yet there 
 came a morning when he stopped Jack as they, 
 passed on the campus. " I read that thing of 
 yours in ' The Bystander,' " he said carelessly, 
 his roving eyes betraying no immediate interest 
 in the eager face before him. " Don't get think- 
 177
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ing you're a star because you can rip out stuff 
 like that. Just keep grinding you need to." 
 And without a look he passed on. 
 
 But Jack knew himself marked. 
 
 He had been a sophomore then ; now he was 
 nearing the end of his Junior year, and the uni- 
 versity to him meant Maxwell ; to Maxwell that 
 year meant Homfrey. How he had experi- 
 mented with the pliant mind ! the destruction 
 of all that the boy had come under his influence 
 believing, had interested him, especially as he 
 had been conscious at first of definite resistance. 
 He had smiled ; Lord help him, the boy, with his 
 innocent, apron-string theories of life! 
 
 Maxwell destroyed, but he did not rebuild ; 
 each man must do that for himself. If he could 
 not but there Maxwell shrugged his shoul- 
 ders. 
 
 And while the work went on, Richarda was 
 drawing herself further and further from Jack ; 
 she was convincing herself with the most plaus- 
 ible arguments that he no longer needed her. 
 She had heard so much as to the danger years 
 for boys fourteen, fifteen, sixteen but she 
 had seen him safe through those. The days of 
 the apron string had their limit. 
 
 So Jack stood alone, and he felt himself alone. 
 178
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He realised that there was some change in the 
 woman who had been in his world as the sun in 
 the sky, but he had not until lately supposed a 
 moment possible when he would feel himself 
 actually separated from her. Yet the moment 
 had come. 
 
 " You're getting so big and wise," she said 
 to him one day when she met him in the street 
 he had run into town with Hutchinson " You 
 don't need me any more." 
 
 " Don't I ? " He looked at her with an ex- 
 pression that haunted her for days. But she 
 protected herself against it. 
 
 Thus Jack was left, unguarded, to the minis- 
 trations of Maxwell, and his avid mind soon 
 made its own the brilliant system of speciosity 
 and subterfuge which its daring manipulator 
 presented under one guise to-day, another to- 
 morrow. The sum and substance of the whole 
 matter was, that you might think this, or you 
 might equally well think that, but if you 
 thought either you were probably a fool for 
 your pains. " At least that is my opinion," 
 Maxwell would say politely to his class, " but 
 it may not be yours." 
 
 Jack was at first stunned ; nothing was left 
 inviolate ; Religion and Woman were the two 
 179
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 great points of attack, but the problem of Re- 
 ligion was more easily disposed of than the 
 problem of Woman. In time the boy learnt 
 strange tricks of thought from a man who 
 spoke intimately of woman as man's quarry, 
 and who exposed the history of religion with 
 as little remorse as if it were a mere matter of 
 Jack and the Beanstalk. 
 
 The university clock was striking eight as 
 Douglas Maxwell heavily climbed the creaking 
 staircase which led to Room B on the sec- 
 ond floor of the oldest building on the campus. 
 He hung his drab hat on a peg immediately in- 
 side the class-room door; it was a perennial 
 joke that the Senior Class intended to present 
 him with a new head-covering, but it is a ques- 
 tion whether they could have borne to see him 
 in a hat which had none of the personal char- 
 acteristics of this old slouched bit of felt, which 
 seemed to proclaim, even from its peg, that it 
 belonged to an unconquered, free-booting spirit. 
 
 Maxwell swept the crowded room with a 
 glance, and stepped to the platform directly 
 to the right of the door. Behind him stretched 
 a black-boarded wall scrawled with various cabal- 
 istic diagrams here and there a name was 
 180
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 flung Nietzsche, Descartes; a word geist- 
 liche, coparcenary; perhaps to hasten the com- 
 prehension of the halting student. He laid his 
 books down on the small table, and seating him- 
 self, scanned his notes during the five minutes' 
 grace allowed to the belated. Now and then he 
 looked up, with the expression of a bull-dog 
 rattling his heavy-hung jaws in preparation 
 for conflict. The visitors at the back of the 
 room the women visitors felt uncomforta- 
 ble. Was he angry because they were there, 
 or was he merely articulating the vertebras of 
 some mighty philosophical proposition? 
 
 In reality he was wondering what in hell his 
 laundress did every week with the buttons on 
 his most intimate garments. It was one of the 
 inexplicable qualities of women that they 
 but he was on his feet, the last moment of grace 
 gone. 
 
 " Are there any questions ? " 
 
 The students were silent ; there was probably 
 no room in which so many questions were asked 
 as in this one, and none in which it required so 
 much courage to ask them. 
 
 " No questions ? " Maxwell looked quizzically 
 at the closely gathered group of women, whom 
 his tone seemed to spatter with sarcasm ; he de- 
 181
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 spised the timidity which made them incapable 
 of stating a problem for discussion, although he 
 knew that he himself was responsible for their 
 diffidence. He had never hesitated to declare it 
 his intention to make his work " as damned un- 
 pleasant for the women " as he could, and he 
 had succeeded to such an extent that their num- 
 bers dwindled to a faint but philosophy-pursu- 
 ing remnant, which he harried unceasingly in 
 the hope that it would one day entirely disap- 
 pear, and that he would achieve the distinction 
 in an institution popularly supposed to be 
 strongly co-educational, of lecturing to men 
 only. He sneered at those feeble departments 
 of the university which snatched eagerly at 
 women students for the purpose of demonstrat- 
 ing their popularity to a board of regents, apt 
 to award salary according to the quantity of his 
 students rather than to the quality of the pro- 
 fessor; Maxwell's class-room, was crowded with 
 men; there was no occasion for him to coquet 
 with that most mis-placed female known as the 
 " Co-ed." 
 
 Yet until the advent of Jack Homfrey, his 
 
 star student had been a woman, and how he had 
 
 begrudged her intellect that handicap ! So long 
 
 as he had her under his influence, all went well; 
 
 182
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 but during a vacation she fell a victim to the 
 inevitable and became engaged to some insig- 
 nificant school principal in the West. Bah! 
 marriage, the bearing of children, the endless 
 day after day litter of domestic duties for 
 such a woman ! It was one more example of the 
 brutal comedy in which Fate made sport of 
 human endowment. 
 
 It was the act of a fool to waste time on the 
 mental development of women beyond a certain 
 point. But it was the modern pose to approve 
 of their playing with the arts and sciences ; to 
 affect belief in the pretense that their souls 
 thirsted for knowledge and a doctor's degree. 
 What a farce ! The woman of high intellectual 
 development was a " sport," an abnormality. 
 Men understood that. And yet all this asses' 
 braying about the higher education of women ! 
 And they God bless them ! took it seri- 
 ousty, while all the time the pretty one among 
 them, be she fool or knave, held the royal flush, 
 and always would, and every man knew it. 
 
 But they could not all have her! Hence 
 something must be done to render the undesira- 
 ble woman palatable, and that was the meaning 
 of higher education. His star student had been 
 a very plain girl, yet she had found a man will- 
 183
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ing to marry her, and in the intervals of baby- 
 minding, her expert knowledge could be sub- 
 jected most effectively to her husband's service. 
 
 " Any questions ? " 
 
 Maxwell glanced at Homf rey not that he 
 expected any word from him, but because the 
 eager face was an oasis in this desert of medi- 
 ocrity. When he began to lecture, presently, it 
 would be to this spirit that he would speak it 
 was enough. 
 
 From the back of the room there came a 
 voice, low, hesitating, hampered by the painful 
 constructing of foreign thinking into English 
 speaking. 
 
 " I should just like to say, Professor Max- 
 well, that these lectures on religion have put me 
 into a very uncertain state of mind. I feel as 
 if I were hanging over a gulf, and did not know 
 at what moment I might fall in." 
 
 "Fall in," said Maxwell promptly. The 
 class laughed. " Suspense is the most trying 
 form of torture, Mr. Mangasarian." 
 
 " But I can't." There was slow patience in 
 the words. " When I first came here, I used to 
 listen to the ministers in the churches all preach- 
 ing what I meant to go back and preach to my 
 people, and now I don't even know whether they 
 believe they're preaching the truth." 
 184
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " You would split hairs, Mr. Mangasarian. 
 The excellent gentlemen you refer to, are selling 
 over the counter the goods they are paid to sell. 
 The church hires them to preach its individual 
 creed. They preach it. The matter is simplic- 
 ity itself." 
 
 " I don't see that," persisted the student. 
 " Religion the conscious relating of the soul 
 to God " 
 
 " Religion the conscious relating of the 
 soul to God," repeated Maxwell " but are you 
 certain that the churches have anything to do 
 with that question ? " 
 
 " Well " Mangasarian paused " they 
 profess to have it. If they haven't, who has? 
 Where shall a man find peace? Is there nothmg 
 sure, Professor Maxwell? " 
 
 " What do you want sure ? " 
 
 " Truth immortality." Mangasarian hes- 
 itated again, for Maxwell stood on the edge of 
 the platform, his head thrown back, his eyes 
 half-closed, his whole pose suggestive of con- 
 temptuous power; then he added with a cer- 
 tain stubbornness of tone : " Salvation from 
 sin." 
 
 It was a daring phrase to venture in that 
 class-room. " Mangasarian offers himself as 
 185
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 one more Armenian martyr," remarked Jack to 
 his neighbour. 
 
 Maxwell stepped back. " You give a large 
 order, Mr. Mangasarian," he said drily. " But 
 it is well to remember that you are at the stage 
 when a man asks more of the universe than it 
 is in a position to bestow. Truth, Immortality, 
 Salvation from sin." He smiled. " Truth 
 I should think you had been long enough in 
 this class-room to know that there is not one 
 statement which has yet been made by man of 
 woman born, that we can accept as truth. 
 Broadly speaking, there is nothing as false as 
 what we consider safe to accept as truth. 
 
 " Immortality. What do you mean by that? 
 Is it an expression used by you to denote a state 
 in which you are to know happiness? But what 
 is happiness? Have you ever known it? If 
 you think you have, it might be well for you 
 to reflect that you may know for a fool the man 
 who imagines he possesses it. Immortality 
 let us analyse your definition a state in which 
 you are to have everything exactly as you wish 
 it ; your steak always tender, the woman you 
 love as it pleases you to have her; your balance 
 at the bank always greater than your needs. 
 Oh, to be sure, no saint would admit it, Mr, 
 186
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Mangasarian, but if he could for once be hon- 
 est and face it, this statement would adequately 
 represent his conception of immortality." Max- 
 well shrugged his shoulders. " The pious man 
 cants forsooth, about God and an immortality 
 in which he will praise him forever ! he's too 
 cowardly to kick the image he has set up out of 
 his scheme of immortal bliss, but doesn't he 
 wish he could, Mr. Mangasarian ! " 
 
 The little swarthy, hesitating, yet dogged 
 Armenian essayed to speak, but Maxwell bore 
 him down. " Your soul hungers and thirsts for 
 something to believe, I think you said. Two 
 and two make four, or so we have agreed to 
 admit in the interests of general convenience. 
 Therefore I suggest, that for the present, you 
 cling* to the incontrovertible fact of the four- 
 ness of two and two. There are discoverable in 
 that fact sources of power and of inspiration 
 not furnished to a reflecting spirit by any ec- 
 clesiastical creed it matters not how audacious, 
 nor how artfully constructed. 
 
 " You raise one other point, Mr. Mangasarian. 
 You speak of salvation from sin. Accepting 
 that phrase in the uncritical sense in which you 
 mean it, I may say that I have yet to come 
 across a case in which the theological effect 
 187
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 which you thus describe has occurred. There 
 is no such thing as salvation from sin. The 
 extinction of the spirit would be the result of 
 such a calamity a calamity which thousands 
 of fools entreat from an unknown God every 
 day of their lives. That which you would em- 
 phasize as conversion is merely a matter of the 
 manifestation of fixed laws in human life. 
 
 " As to the question of sin, we have no satis- 
 factory definition of what it is, or what it is not. 
 We have indeed a set of conventional laws pro- 
 mulgated by God or Mrs. Grundy we do not 
 know which they are hopelessly confounded 
 in the minds of us all, but the actions of a ma- 
 jority of the inhabitants of this town for in- 
 stance, lead us to infer that the Ten Command- 
 ments would mean a great deal more to them if 
 they were prefaced with the statement: And 
 Mrs. Grundy spake these words and said " 
 Maxwell paused with an expressive gesture. 
 
 The class laughed again ; Mangasarian set- 
 tled back in his chair with a defeated look. 
 
 But when Maxwell spoke again, there was a 
 deeper note in his voice; his jaw seemed to hang 
 heavier; his gloomy eyes with the dark rings 
 under them were fixed on something far beyond 
 the confines of that quiet room, 
 188
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Salvation from sin ! There is no such farce 
 of redemption as that phrase is made to cover 
 possible to humanity, either through the blood 
 of sacrificed beast, or of the son of God. If 
 man sins, he goes to hell, here, not yonder; and 
 in hell he must work out his own salvation. It 
 is to the glory of us all that there are some few 
 spirits who do this in every age. 
 
 " As for your little yard-stick standards of 
 morality Bah ! 
 
 " What is virtue? chastity, perhaps you will 
 at once think. And what is chastity ? one 
 thing among Jews and Mormons when the 
 necessity is upon them to multiply and replen- 
 ish the earth, if they would maintain themselves 
 against adverse peoples and conditions. It is 
 easy to brand a system of plural marriage and 
 concubinage as immoral, if you are outside of 
 the conditions which render such imperative. 
 Born a Jew or a Mormon, you would have done 
 exactly as Jew and Mormon did. 
 
 " I recommend it to you as a suggestive 
 thought that the advancing prices and complexi- 
 ties of modern living are probably more produc- 
 tive of many effects which have the appearance of 
 an increased morality, than the national domestic 
 virtue on which we are apt to plume ourselves. 
 189
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Man is compelled to be a monogamist by lack 
 of the conditions which would admit of his 
 being a polygamist." 
 
 It was impossible for the class to maintain 
 seriousness in face of the tone in which this was 
 said ; there was an outburst of laughter, and a 
 general glance in the direction of the women, 
 who remained silent. 
 
 " Two and two are four, Mr. Mangasarian. 
 So at least men of every race, every colour, 
 every creed have agreed to accept as fact, and 
 as I have intimated, against every creed yet 
 devised by human sophistry, I am willing to set 
 that simple fact, and I invite you to find in it 
 the consolation, which so far as I can see, re- 
 ligion is at present unable to give. But you 
 will need the eye of the spirit to discern the 
 hidden meaning of so stern a creed. You will 
 find yourself frequently tempted to act on the 
 basis that two and two make five. Don't. I 
 would remind you that the time allowed you to 
 make spiritual mistakes of that kind is short. 
 Do I succeed in making myself clear, Mr. Man- 
 gasarian ? " 
 
 The question came suddenly, with the utmost 
 precision of politeness. 
 
 " Yes sir." 
 
 190
 
 But Mangasarian lied lied helplessly. He 
 dimly comprehended himself in the hands of a 
 casuist as expert as the wiliest Jesuit, but he 
 failed, because it reached him through expres- 
 sion not piously phrased, to grasp the moral 
 significance of Maxwell's long-drawn answer to 
 his question. The Law, the Prophets and the 
 Gospel taught no greater truths than this man 
 let fall by the wayside, casually, often indiffer- 
 ently. It amused him to speak his word of wis- 
 dom unemphasized then to watch the blank 
 faces before him across which no gleam of 
 understanding flashed. The wit of a risky joke, 
 the humour of an audacious expletive, his stu- 
 dents appreciated and applauded, but his simple 
 enunciation of some great truth met with so 
 little response, that it grew natural to him to 
 utter it with the blase air of a man indifferent 
 to misunderstanding. 
 
 Yet he was not without pity. He looked at 
 Mangasarian and wondered what would become 
 of the fellow after he got through with him. 
 It seemed in a way a hard reward for an earnest 
 soul the reward of doubt, denial the 
 draught of Marah in place of the sacramental 
 Cup ; the elements of tragedy were already in 
 the man's face. 
 
 191
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 What a weariness ! the whole damned 
 round of the Great Illusion, so inextricably 
 woven of the splendours of renunciation, of the 
 glories of achievement, bound together by one 
 of the most amazing and persistent of human 
 forces the force of Cowardice. 
 
 That little Armenian a year ago he would 
 have died undismayed for his " faith ; " to-day 
 he sat cowering like a frightened cur because he 
 had been forced to face his own self-deception. 
 
 Bah ! the fellow must go the way of all 
 human small fry; Maxwell shrugged his shoul- 
 ders and began his lecture. 
 
 The ease of his manner, the simplicity of 
 style which masked the complexity of his mean- 
 ing in clear poetic prose, and the paradoxical 
 charm of the man himself, never so evident as 
 when he was face to face with his students 
 all this rendered it small wonder that his class- 
 room was crowded. For here was a man pulsing 
 the red blood of his day and generation no 
 dried and dusty scholar groping in the grey un- 
 certainties of the Past. 
 
 Thus these lectures on The Essential Ele- 
 ments of Religion had a fascination not usually 
 possessed by such topics ; even the dullard lis- 
 tened with a gratified perception that his ears 
 192
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 were being tickled, and plumed himself on the 
 perspicacity of his intelligence. 
 
 It was spring-time again ; the windows of the 
 class-room were open to the wandering fra- 
 grance of the blossom-laden wind ; the mystery 
 of breaking leaf and unfolding bud was invest- 
 ing with elemental beauty the meanest twig, the 
 lowliest weed ; the casts of the great philoso- 
 phers ranged around the room looked strange, 
 un-human ; they represented the world's darkest, 
 deepest thinking, as if it were not enough just 
 to exist with the sap of life's spring-time lifting 
 lightly in the veins, and the lass a lad dreamed 
 of, a day nearer to him than ever before ! 
 
 A whisper in the tree-tops drove a mist of 
 apple-blossoms through the window; Maxwell 
 paused. To a nature charged with an imagina- 
 tion as complex as his, brutal, idealistic ; 
 coarse with the coarseness of a man, and deli- 
 cate with the delicacy of a maiden, this day, 
 flushed with the falling of pink and white petal, 
 made an appeal such as the lesser nerves of 
 these boys and girls would never know. They 
 knew no break in the sweep of his subject, 
 though for a moment they waited with pens sus- 
 pended. 
 
 " The difference between the man in the mud 
 193
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 and the one who from the heights looks into the 
 faces of the stars the difference between these 
 two is but as the difference caused by a grain 
 of sand on this side of the scale instead of on 
 that. The same fierce passion that carried one 
 before the throne of the Eternal, cast the other 
 into the slime. Saint and sinner, martyr and 
 murderer, the vast difference is not in them, but 
 in the ignorance with which we behold them. 
 Did you never thinlv what amazing power, what 
 god-like force is revealed in the man who can 
 rise to the height of taking the life of his fel- 
 low? " 
 
 Maxwell was looking through the south win- 
 dow nearest to him, at the glory of the sky and 
 the greening of the tree-tops, but what he saw 
 was the storm-swept hills of his own gray land, 
 and he remembered what it was his burden to 
 forget. 
 
 " The difference between the man in the mud 
 and the other, is not where we put it. Both 
 seek the Vision, for I charge you never to forget 
 that we are so placed in this world that we are 
 not able to escape seeking it though we some- 
 times seek it in strange places, gentlemen in 
 the love of a woman, for instance the love of 
 a woman " the tone was such that every face 
 194
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in the room was riveted upon his " or in the 
 passion of the wheat-pit. It matters not where. 
 It is all a manifestation of the mysticism which 
 lies at the root of the simplest human act. 
 
 " But I would remind you that the only things 
 in this world that have been worth doing have 
 been done by the men who not only have sought 
 the heavenly Vision every man, saint or sin- 
 ner, seeks it but who having seen it, have 
 been obedient unto it." 
 
 Maxwell threw his note-book together; then 
 stood for a moment, motionless, looking dully 
 at the massed faces before him, his hold still so 
 strong that no one stirred. Then, as the Uni- 
 versity clock began its slow striking of nine, he 
 stepped off the platform the room was in- 
 stantly on its feet in the rush for the next class 
 took his old hat from the peg and passed to 
 the stair-way which never looked so narrow as 
 when a student met him on it greeting with 
 a nod which was more galling than none, an in- 
 structor who carried his head with what im- 
 pressed Maxwell as an undue appreciation of 
 the value of its contents. The young Ph. D. 
 prepared to speak to him, but Maxwell wheeled 
 to the right of the corridor, and in a moment 
 was crossing the campus, his head sunk heavily 
 195
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 upon his shoulders the whole man apparently 
 sheathed in indifference to the life about him. 
 Yet no member of the Faculty observed as inti- 
 mately as Maxwell the nature of the ground 
 which he tilled. 
 
 A crowd of students swarmed out on the steps 
 after him. 
 
 " What struck Maxwell just now? " said one 
 to Homfrey. 
 
 " Hanged if it wasn't a sermon! " ejaculated 
 another. 
 
 Jack looked after the big figure slowly grind- 
 ing up the Lake Walk. 
 
 " Doesn't it strike you that Maxwell's the 
 loneliest looking man you ever saw? " he re- 
 marked inappositely. " Look at him ! He's like 
 a monarch without crown or kingdom or subject. 
 He looks as if he was all alone on earth." 
 
 " Don't be so darned poetical, Hefty. It 
 doesn't sound well in one of your years and in- 
 discretions." 
 
 Jack laughed ; but his eyes followed Maxwell. 
 " I maintain that there is upon him the ma- 
 jesty that isolates a throne," he exclaimed ora- 
 torically and was pelted with jeers. 
 
 Maxwell and Jack met again that day as each 
 was crossing the campus in the direction of his 
 dinner. Maxwell stopped. 
 196
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Pretty poor stuff I gave you fellows this 
 morning." He was clearly in his most demon- 
 driven mood. " And that ass of a parson from 
 Windwater dropped in just at the close of the 
 lecture, and came around to see me afterwards 
 to thank me with platitudinous tears for my 
 * noble and inspiring words to the dear young 
 people.' ' What ! ' I roared. ' You mean to 
 say you took that drivel seriously ! ' O Lord ! 
 the poor cuss looked at me as if he thought the 
 devil was about to swallow him. Ha ! Ha ! " 
 
 Jack looked up sharply. " But " he be- 
 gan tentatively 
 
 Maxwell turned on his heel. 
 
 197
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 Jack was roaming familiarly about Max- 
 well's study, pulling one book after another 
 from the shelves ; he was a frequent and privi- 
 leged visitor. He came presently to one backed 
 with the statement : Unphilosophical Essays by 
 Douglas Maxwell, which he had not noticed be- 
 fore, and opened it with quick curiosity ; then 
 paused to read what was written on the fly-leaf 
 in the twisted, reticent hand-writing: To my 
 Wife, through whose inspiration this book was 
 written in the first year of our marriage. 
 
 Jack involuntarily closed the book, but as he 
 did so, a half-sheet of note-paper fluttered from 
 its pages. He caught it as it fell, and saw that 
 it was a poem with the heading: To Douglas, 
 and below, the simple signature, Margaret. 
 
 He had hardly got the book back on the shelf 
 when Maxwell came in and in the breath of com- 
 ing broke into a story which closed with no vir- 
 tue left in any woman. Jack had heard from 
 him many such; he had learnt to think of what 
 he would have termed " experience " as part and 
 198
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 lot of life something which sooner or later, 
 no man escaped. 
 
 But to-night the boy found it hard to laugh ; 
 the spell of a woman's name was upon him 
 Margaret! And she had been Maxwell's wife; 
 she had known him as none other could, and out 
 of the heart of her knowledge she had written 
 that faded little poem, To Douglas. 
 
 Something exquisitely sweet and pure a 
 feeling akin to the withdrawn fragrance of a 
 flower blooming against the snow, suffused his 
 heart. He thought of Lady then of the 
 story he had just heard; his face crimsoned. 
 Lady ! she lived among her cloistered 
 thoughts like a lily within its sheath, and her 
 husband, with a connoisseur's appreciation of 
 things rare and delicate, had protected her from 
 all rough knowledge of the world. But Hom- 
 f rey what did he know of life, as compared 
 with Maxwell! 
 
 Jack had been flattered at becoming his pro- 
 fessor's confidant; together they had sat into 
 the deep hours of the night, filling the room 
 with the smoke which as it grew denser, became 
 a veil behind which conversation waxed free. 
 And all the time in Maxwell's life, there had 
 been memory of this Margaret, and of " the 
 199
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 first year of our marriage " a line penned 
 tenderly by any man or not at all. 
 
 When had she died ? why had Maxwell 
 never even hinted of her ? the boy's imagina- 
 tion ran riot from one question to another. 
 When had Maxwell ceased to be the man who 
 wrote that dedication ? or, had he ceased to 
 be the man? 
 
 Jack had studied Maxwell and his masks at 
 close range. He realised that the relation of 
 teacher and student would never have developed 
 into a more personal intimacy save for the fact 
 that Maxwell had found something in him that 
 matched his own temperament perhaps noth- 
 ing more than an equality of reserve. Or per- 
 haps this friendship was due merely to his con- 
 venient adaptability to a capriciousness of tem- 
 per apt to confound the unwary. For to Jack, 
 branded with the sensitive intuitions of the art- 
 ist, Maxwell's moods were easy reading his 
 moods, but not the man. The boy often felt 
 that he knew as little of the real Maxwell now 
 as he had on the day when they first met. 
 
 " Hullo youngster ! You're looking as sour 
 
 as a green apple," chaffed Maxwell suddenly. 
 
 "What's up? Listen to this!" He threw 
 
 open a leather bound book which looked like a 
 
 200
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ledger, but which Jack knew to be his diary, and 
 began to read an extract, rapidly and without 
 expression. None was needed. The thought 
 was so original, so profound, so unreserved, 
 that emphasis here or there would have been 
 invidious. It was the revelation of a man who 
 in solitude had learnt to fear no answer to 
 those problems which he sought to follow to ul- 
 timity without prejudice, and who thus avenged 
 himself upon those tricks of mask and pose 
 whereby he daily played his part before an audi- 
 ence for which he felt only contempt. 
 
 The riddle of life here in these pages he 
 had wrestled with its mystery; many a night 
 until the break of day had he made demand: 
 
 " But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou? 
 Tell me Thy name, and tell me now." 
 
 The misery of humanity the gulf between 
 what man is and what he would be the ache 
 and despair of it, scoffed and moaned at its own 
 wretchedness ; entreated, blasphemed, and in the 
 same breath was caught up into the seventh 
 heaven in some rapt flight of the imagination 
 as elusively mystical as that of any haloed seer. 
 
 Suddenly, the self-revelatory narrative as- 
 sumed the character of a picture a few sen- 
 201
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 tences, cold, grim, tenacious and Jack seemed 
 to see a young mother, her child asleep upon her 
 knee; asleep, but with the sleep whence comes 
 no waking. 
 
 A moment later, he wondered if he had heard 
 aright Maxwell threw the book down with a 
 chuckle. 
 
 " It's curious what extraordinary effects you 
 can produce with the most commonplace words 
 if you only know the combinations." 
 
 " It's the greatest thing that was ever writ- 
 ten," said Jack solemnly. 
 
 " You bet your life it is, my boy ! " Max- 
 well lighted another cigarette. " Won't the 
 critics sit up when they read it ! Ha ! Ha ! But 
 there won't be anything in that for me." 
 
 " Then you really do mean that you won't 
 publish it during your life-time? " 
 
 " I'd get too much satisfaction out of doing 
 that. It would almost make life worth living, 
 which would be giving the lie to my conviction 
 that it isn't." 
 
 " You won't let yourself get any satisfaction, 
 out of anything? " 
 
 The boy was pleading, and not only for Max- 
 well. Surely life meant something more than 
 disaster, despair, and at the last a grim gather- 
 ing of bones under the sod. 
 202
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Satisfaction ! " Maxwell threw back his 
 head and laughed as mirthfully as a child. 
 " You've got a little to learn, lad. A little to 
 learn." 
 
 And straightway he plunged into another 
 story, more desecrating than the first. There 
 appeared to be no possible connection between 
 the man of this moment and the one whose lips, 
 as he had read, had seemed charged at times 
 with a message from some sublime height of 
 spiritual experience. 
 
 But the man in the mud, and the one who 
 trod the stars Jack remembered and under- 
 stood. Within himself Maxwell bounded these 
 two, god and devil, in such perfect balance as 
 is the gift of few. 
 
 And to the boy, granted the poet's insight, 
 the thought came quick that this was mighty 
 endowment, but that it carried with it, as its 
 penalty, far more of hell than of heaven. This 
 man in his blackest moments looked upon life 
 with the devil's own wisdom, and saw it filthy, 
 accursed, and himself one with it. 
 
 And against that, there was set the eternal 
 
 torment of those visions which came to him out 
 
 of the dark of his own soul, uncalled, unwel- 
 
 comed ; a sign to him of weakness ; a remnant 
 
 203
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of that persistent Scottish bias toward a spirit- 
 ual interpretation of life, prayed into the very 
 marrow of their descendants' bones by scores of 
 grim fighters covenanted against the carnal 
 man. But they came to him, those moments 
 when he knew himself immortal, and the very 
 flesh and blood of God. 
 
 " Oh damn it ! " he exclaimed now. " You're 
 about as interesting a companion as an empty 
 beer-bottle. Go and play me something." 
 
 When Jack began, he sank back into his low 
 chair, his knees almost on a line with his chin, 
 for there were two things for which he never 
 denied his love children and music. Pres- 
 ently, save for the snap of the match which 
 lighted one cigarette after another, he might 
 have been deemed asleep, he listened so motion- 
 less. The lines of his heavy face softened ; the 
 deep eyes dreamed. 
 
 And Jack dreamed too. It charmed his fancy 
 to set to tenderest note his vision of that un- 
 known woman, that Margaret, queenly fair and 
 proud, of whom he knew nothing, save that after 
 one year of marriage, she had still held the heart 
 of Douglas Maxwell. 
 
 And while he played, Maxwell watched him, 
 his thoughts reverting to the time when he had 
 204
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 been a lad like that. But there was no envy in 
 his reflections. Youth was a thing to be got 
 rid of, a plague in a man's memory. It stood 
 for ignorance, crudity, limitation ; the man who 
 was always looking back to the golden age of 
 his twenties, proclaimed himself an ass. 
 
 The boy here he had a wearisome road to 
 travel before he " came to himself." The 
 phrase struck Maxwell anew with deep and piti- 
 ful meaning. He had had some interesting ex- 
 periences with the impressionable, imaginative 
 stuff which had come under his hand so eager 
 to be shaped, and he had moulded without com- 
 punction. For this boy above all others must 
 know the things, and think the thoughts of 
 which his duller brethren might well remain ig- 
 norant. And the cub had insaitiate curiosity; 
 he burnt to know. Maxwell smiled grimly, for 
 Jack was the sort whom knowledge seeks. 
 
 But processes of experience and disillusion- 
 ment ate up time, and there was still to come 
 the slow settling of the man into the sureness 
 of reflective judgment, before he could be con- 
 sidered definitely as worth the reckoning. It 
 was true that a young man as precocious as 
 Homfrey, ran the gamut of immaturity at a 
 rapid rate, aided as he was by an imagination 
 205
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of unusual range. There came to Maxwell's 
 mind a poem which Jack had laid on his desk 
 one morning as he passed the boy had au- 
 dacity ! a trifle of two stanzas in which he 
 had expressed a phase of human passion it was 
 safe to assert he would never actually experience, 
 with a sureness of intuition which for an instant 
 staggered Maxwell. 
 
 " How's Betty? " he asked in a pause of the 
 music. 
 
 " Betty ? " Jack got up, struck a final group 
 of chords, then closed the piano. " Oh, she's still 
 Betty." 
 
 " Well, I'd look out for Betty, if I were you," 
 remarked Maxwell bluntly. " She has a little 
 way of chewing fellows up that's the healthiest 
 kind of curse for the fellows perhaps. She's 
 going to make a devil of a woman, my boy." 
 
 " She gives a fellow a good time." Jack's 
 tone was enigmatical. 
 
 " Oh, the best ever," gibed Maxwell. " Bet- 
 ty's here for business, though she has brains 
 enough to pick up an education as an aside." 
 
 "Business?" 
 
 " Yes. She's here to get married or bet- 
 ter." Maxwell laughed. 
 
 " Better? " 
 
 206
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " From Betty's point of view, I dare say. 
 That's all right. The Bettys are here for as 
 good reasons no doubt as the rest of us, but that 
 is not sufficient cause why you should let her 
 
 " Marry me," suggested Jack audaciously. 
 
 Maxwell looked at him coolly. " You're safe 
 there. You haven't money enough to make it 
 worth Betty's while to marry you. Such women 
 as she never make the mistake of not selling 
 themselves. They understand their needs per- 
 fectly. But you " 
 
 Was it possible the boy did not understand 
 what rare prey he was ! 
 
 " You ! " Maxwell whirled round on hi* 
 chair, and picked up his pen. 
 
 " Bye-bye, youngster." 
 
 " Damn the boy ! " he muttered half-an-hour 
 afterwards. " She'll get him sure. Didn't the 
 fools who made this institution co-educational 
 know anything of human nature? Had they 
 any reason to suppose boys and girls made of 
 less inflammable stuff than themselves ? " 
 
 He lit another cigarette he was popularly 
 supposed to go without sleep in order to smoke 
 and for a little space let his thoughts dwell 
 upon that strange play of fate which had al- 
 lotted to him the living out of his days in a 
 207
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 place so far removed from his beginnings as 
 this. But the nausea from which he had suf- 
 fered had been due to no mere mistasting of 
 the epicurean tid-bits of life, to be relieved by a 
 change of scene, and a less complicated bill of 
 fare. Here in this " simpler " life, humanity 
 deceived itself in the same dull ways, but with 
 far less of the graces of illusion than in the 
 older civilisation. His acute realisation of this, 
 and his consequent irritation, led to many of 
 those blunt remarks which were a scandal to 
 those of his colleagues who interpreted prudery 
 as an attribute of the Deity, and of the Amer- 
 ican gentleman. 
 
 Maxwell did not realise in what strong col- 
 ours his character was generally painted in 
 Waverley. He had no idea that woman feared 
 him. 
 
 " Damn that woman Rattenbury ! " he had 
 exclaimed to a colleague the night before, as 
 they walked home together from one of the end- 
 less receptions at which he found it so difficult 
 to present himself with a becoming smile : " She 
 always acts as if she expected me to indulge in 
 prohibited courtesies toward her. She kept her 
 fan between me and her lace yoke as if I had 
 the small-pox." 
 
 208
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 It did not occur to Waverley feminity to think 
 of this man as possibly purer of life than such 
 assured models of domestic virtue as their own 
 husbands. A long lane, a dark night, and 
 Douglas Maxwell was a combination from which 
 might the Lord ever preserve them ! He seemed 
 likely to. But it would have been difficult to 
 convince them that their escape was due to the 
 nature of the man He had made, and not pri- 
 marily to His solicitude for them. 
 
 When Jack reached the street after leaving 
 Maxwell, he hesitated took a step or two, 
 then stopped again. He looked up, and for a 
 moment lost himself in the spaces of the night; 
 a line of poetry flowed into his brain an- 
 other; presently the entire stanza was in form 
 without more effort on his part than the invol- 
 untary inbreathing of the spirit of the dark- 
 ness. 
 
 But he pulled out his watch saw the time 
 in the moonlight, and turned sharply towards 
 the campus, crossing it at a run, his blood sing- 
 ing in his veins the strange, minor-keyed song 
 of youth. When he reached the house for which 
 he was bound, he ran up the steps, opened the 
 door with the sureness of familiarity, and then 
 sprang up the stairs which brought him directly 
 209
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in front of a closed door. He tapped listened 
 with his ear against it. 
 
 It opened, and he stepped in quickly, his 
 hand held towards Betty. But he drew back. 
 
 " Hullo, Myers ! " he said shortly. 
 
 The young man lounging in the easy chair 
 nodded without moving; he had an air of pos- 
 session which men calling upon Betty were apt 
 to acquire. 
 
 Jack looked at Betty ; his chin lifted. She 
 turned to her other caller. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Myers," she said effusively, stand- 
 ing directly in front of him, and looking at 
 him with eyes which were very full, and very 
 innocent, and very warmly brown : " I quite 
 forgot. I shouldn't have seen you to-night, 
 really. You made me forget. I promised this 
 time to Mr. Homfrey, to talk over some tiresome 
 old committee business. You won't mind? Oh, 
 you're awfully good. I knew you wouldn't. 
 It's lovely of you. I shan't forget. Don't you 
 like people who are perfectly frank? Yes, you 
 always know where you are, don't you? Now, 
 you will come again ! " 
 
 Myers went away smiling; he meant to come 
 again ; he liked Betty's pretty ways of ferment- 
 ing a man's blood. That was the sort of girl 
 for you! 
 
 210
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 As for Betty, she shut the door upon him 
 with a gesture of complete dismissal, and then 
 dropped wearily into a chair. 
 
 " I'm so tired," she said plaintively. " You're 
 the fourth man here to-night, and I've only 
 wanted to see two." 
 
 " The other? " suggested Jack. 
 
 " When do you all think I get my work 
 done? " she demanded, ignoring his question. 
 " I'm not here for fun. Take this chair." She 
 indicated the one from which Myers had just 
 removed himself. 
 
 " Thank you. I don't believe I care to," said 
 Jack elaborately. " I suppose they've all sat 
 there." 
 
 She laughed softly. " Do you see that 
 flower? " She pointed to a single white rose 
 in a slender vase. " Mr. Chase sends me just 
 that one every Saturday night. Don't you 
 think it's a pretty idea ? " 
 
 " It's inexpensive." 
 
 " That's the point. He could send me dozens. 
 But he has the grace to see that from him 
 one has the elegance of distinction." 
 
 " Wow ! " exclaimed Jack unemotionally. 
 
 " Have you anything pressing to say? " she 
 asked presently. " Because if not, I'd be glad
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 to run away a moment I haven't had time to 
 get off my street dress. I want to put on some- 
 thing pretty and light something you might 
 perhaps like me in. It would rest me better than 
 anything else to have you like me to-night." 
 
 She smiled mockingly, and then waited, look- 
 ing at him over her shoulder. It was rather a 
 favourite pose, but after she got into her little 
 bedroom, she remembered that he had admired it 
 before. It was difficult to keep poses tagged 
 those you had and had not used when you 
 knew a good many men. 
 
 She tripped about, humming a French song, 
 every note and every step, the sweep of 
 her silk skirt, all was calculated with refer- 
 ence to the fact that the least movement was 
 audible beyond the curtain which served as a 
 door. 
 
 For of such was the freedom accorded to co- 
 educated man and maid at Waverley. To in- 
 sinuate that danger might inhere in such lati- 
 tude of propinquity, would have been regarded 
 as casting a slur upon the morals of American 
 youth, and as a deplorable indication of a trans- 
 atlantic looseness of character. The importun- 
 ity of sex might operate dangerously among 
 peoples bound to be born with uncertain virtue;
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 it was otherwise in a land where boys and girls 
 were brought up upon those respectable ideals 
 which ignored the possibility in themselves of 
 what should decently be classed as abnormal 
 tendencies. 
 
 But Betty Carter could have told the sage 
 innocents who undertook to operate a university 
 on a kindergarten system, a few truths in re- 
 gard to the nature of the babes in its care which 
 would have shocked them immeasurably. The 
 Dean of Waverley also could have added 
 materially to her evidence, but he remained non- 
 committal behind his invariable smile. For if 
 the people of the state preferred co-education 
 on this wide open plan for their sons and daugh- 
 ters so be it. When a girl rashly shot her- 
 self well, a certain number of girls must 
 shoot themselves annually, in deference to sta- 
 tistical demands. It was not to be supposed that 
 rules and regulations determining the limits of 
 youthful freedom could avail against laws as 
 fixed as the setting of the sun. 
 
 Laissez faire! That was the true American 
 spirit, and besides, it was not your daughter. 
 
 And so Betty Carter moved about her little 
 room, humming her song undisturbed. She 
 belonged to a sorority, but it would not have 
 213
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 suited her tastes to live in the house. She ar- 
 gued with her sisters that she was too unadapta- 
 ble to relate herself other than theoretically to 
 the community idea. She liked quiet, and as 
 old Mrs. Carey took no other roomers, she was 
 able to have it. In her first year she had made 
 an admirable impression upon her landlady ; it 
 had served her well since. 
 
 " What an age you're taking," called Jack 
 at last. 
 
 Betty made no answer. Instead she stood si- 
 lent, the light turned out in her little room. She 
 was thinking and smiling. 
 
 Betty had the advantage of most people in 
 always knowing what she wanted, and in per- 
 ceiving generally what was the quickest and 
 surest way of obtaining it. She meant to 
 climb, and she had early discovered that, for 
 her, the necks of men would be provided as 
 stepping-stones. She had canvassed the subject 
 of marriage with rare impartiality, even to the 
 extent of concluding that it had not all the 
 charms of its counterfeit. In history it was the 
 mistresses of great men who scored, and though' 
 it was no longer the style to have them in such 
 evidence as formerly, she saw no reason to sup- 
 pose that the blood of men was other than it 
 had been.
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Betty had the intuition of the born courtesan, 
 who knows without learning the value of her 
 temperament to herself and to the man. 
 
 She hurried each morning to an early class, 
 her books under her arm, a charming picture of 
 the simple school-girl. She was an apt student, 
 but her adjustment to her particular needs of 
 the knowledge set forth by various lecturers, 
 would have amazed some of those gentlemen. 
 It suited her to hear that virtue was a mere 
 matter of convention one thing under these 
 conditions ; another, under those. She smiled 
 at the bewildered students who mourned the 
 vanishing from them of all in which they had 
 been taught to have faith; she was so relieved 
 to feel that there was nothing it was necessary 
 to believe, and to know that your goodness or 
 your badness had no effect as against the opera- 
 tion of law in the universe. She had the tidi- 
 ness of character which belongs to people of 
 great organising ability, and she liked to feel 
 that things in general ran smoothly while she 
 did exactly as she chose. 
 
 Betty was a fine example of the working of 
 the law of reaction ; she was the daughter of a 
 Presbyterian minister who had committed her 
 to Waverley with many prayers. 
 215
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 During her first two years, she had had a 
 desultory acquaintance with Jack Homfrey. 
 But he had not liked her, and as she had felt 
 that there were enough who did, it seemed that 
 she could afford to ignore him. But in his 
 third year he attracted so much attention, that 
 Betty pondered. She knew that he devoted him- 
 self singly to no girl ; he appeared to like many 
 with equal indifference. Yet he had such prodi- 
 gal ways of charming, that it was hard for the 
 girl who discovered that his impressive atten- 
 tions were devoid of intentions, and of late he 
 had grown chary of his courtesies ; it was an- 
 noying sometimes to have moonlight and the 
 moment interpreted seriously. 
 
 Betty pondered ; it would be a triumph worth 
 while to have her name exclusively associated 
 with Jack's. 
 
 It took patience and courage, but she 
 achieved. When the blood is but twenty, it 
 flows fast on occasion. And she had a powerful 
 ally in a condition of which she was ignorant: 
 for Jack stood alone now, his heart sore at 
 Richarda's neglect of him. He felt the need 
 of praise, sympathy ; of the tenderness against 
 which he had been so free to lean. And this 
 girl offered all that, at first tentatively, then 
 216
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 more and more boldly, as she divined his neces- 
 sity. 
 
 So Betty waited for a moment, silent in her 
 room, and smiled. For she was not sure what 
 she meant to do with Jack, and for the first 
 time in her life, indecision was sweet to her. 
 She was beginning to be afraid that she cared, 
 and she had not allowed for that in her plans. 
 She understood herself well enough to know 
 that it brought into their relation a danger that 
 had to be considered, but that greatly enhanced 
 its fascination. 
 
 " Betty ! " 
 
 She pushed the curtain aside. " Oh Jack," 
 she said softly, with her finger on her lip, " it's 
 almost one o'clock. I didn't know. That's fear- 
 ful. You ought not to be here." 
 
 But she came towards him. And she was 
 something for a lad to reckon with. She was 
 tired ; her weariness softened, refined her, and 
 in the dim light she looked delicately pale. Her 
 long clinging gown harmonised delicately with 
 her colouring a deeper tone of copper in the 
 girdle about her waist matched the lights in her 
 eyes and hair. 
 
 She was delicately pale, but her lips were 
 very red. 
 
 217
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She came near but she looked away. 
 
 " Jack ! " 
 
 A breeze light as the breath of a hovering 
 spirit, stirred the curtain at the open window. 
 
 And a long shiver ran through Jack. 
 
 "Betty, don't!" he cried sharply. "Don't 
 look at me like that." 
 
 " I don't know what you mean," she said 
 blankly. " I wasn't looking at you." 
 
 Her eyes filled with angry tears. 
 
 218
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Homfrey and Dawson were chatting together 
 in the library over an evening smoke, when the 
 door opened ; Jack looked in. 
 
 " Hullo ! You in from Waverley ? " re- 
 marked Homfrey. " It's quite a time since we 
 saw you." 
 
 "Yes. Is Lady in?" 
 
 " I believe not." Homfrey turned to Daw- 
 son. " You were saying that Morgan thinks he 
 can raise the loan by the twentieth " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, but can you tell me 
 when you think she is likely to be in? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," answered Dawson hurriedly for 
 Homfrey. " She's gone to some bazaar affair 
 with my wife ecclesiastical bucket-shop. 
 She'll be in presently. In the meantime, how's 
 Waverley these days? " 
 
 " Oh, the sun's rising and setting there the 
 same old way." 
 
 " See much of that man Maxwell? " 
 
 " A good deal." 
 
 " That article of his on The American Idea 
 219
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in Education is raising the dust, isn't it? The 
 dry bones are up and at him in great shape." 
 
 " Yes. He's well pleased." 
 
 " I can't think why a man who writes as he 
 does, doesn't write more. He seems to be con- 
 tent just to be a college professor, when he 
 might make a great name for himself." 
 
 " He expects to." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad to hear it," said Dawson 
 genially. " Most of us think that takes some 
 sweating." 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 The boy was still standing, his foot on the 
 threshold ; the brevity of his replies matched his 
 attitude. Dawson felt nervous, as he always 
 did when Homfrey and Jack were alone to- 
 gether without Richarda, and he was wondering 
 what topic could be pursued under such dis- 
 couragement, when Homfrey, who had been pac- 
 ing the floor, paused suddenly almost in front 
 of Jack. 
 
 " That's a nice scandal you've got yourself 
 mixed up in, I must say. It's a new experi- 
 ence for the name of Homfrey." The deliber- 
 ate words bit. " Possibly, however, you are not 
 sensitive on that score." 
 
 Jack sprang forward then held himself. 
 220
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 But for the moment, the two faces were those of 
 men ready to strike. 
 
 And there, with expressions set by the same 
 emotions, the pose of each figure a reproduction 
 of the other the throw of the head, the tense 
 line of the lips, the very clenching of the hands 
 in this bitter moment the betrayal of the one 
 by the other was complete. 
 
 And Dawson, watching, saw and in a flash 
 that dazed, understood. 
 
 " My God ! " He smothered the exclamation 
 as it fell from his lips, and shrank back in his 
 chair. He could not think, and yet somewhere 
 in his mind there seemed to be thundering dully 
 the wonder that he had not seen before what was 
 now so appallingly clear to him. 
 
 He was afraid to look up; he sat numb, just 
 feeling the horror of those two faces fixed upon 
 each other; he felt that he ought to say some- 
 thing ; the thing was an outrage. But he could 
 think of nothing to do or to say. But he must. 
 If he did not 
 
 The door opened ; Richarda stood there, a 
 smile quick to her lips at the sight of Jack. 
 But in the instant, her expression changed, and 
 as suddenly the two men stepped apart, their 
 eyes away from each other and from her. 
 221
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Tim Jack what is it ? " Her voice 
 faltered ; she caught the back of a chair. 
 " What are you " she could not go on ; 
 she grew white. 
 
 " Nothing, Charda nothing," said Hom- 
 frey swiftly. 
 
 But Jack was in flame. " Nothing? " he re- 
 peated in challenging interrogative. " Noth- 
 ing? except that Mr. Homfrey says " then 
 he stopped and looked at Richarda ; there was 
 something in her eyes that hurt him. If only 
 she understood, and would sympathise, and be 
 glad. What he meant by that was that she 
 should be proud of him, and say so. " Oh Lady, 
 it isn't true, what the Journal said. That's 
 why I'm here to-night. In the morning I'll 
 make somebody on that paper eat his words, or 
 
 and those horrible things about me ! who 
 I am, and even about you. And don't you see? 
 
 I can't straighten it out. I don't know who 
 I am, Lady. I thought perhaps " 
 
 " You see, it's all right, Mrs. Homfrey." It 
 was Dawson who spoke ; he was not quite sure 
 what he was saying, but all his protective in- 
 stincts were aroused in defence of this woman, 
 who stood there silent, looking now neither at 
 Jack nor at her husband. " Jack will explain 
 222
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 to us. Of course he can. Let me help you off 
 with your wrap. It seems very warm in here, 
 and yet I thought the evening was rather cool. 
 The weather's changed, I suppose." 
 
 By this time Richarda was in the chair he 
 had drawn forward ; he could feel, as it seemed, 
 in his own heart, the tremendous fight for self- 
 control that was raging in her that showed 
 in her hands as she slowly unbuttoned her 
 gloves. 
 
 But she looked up at him a smile flickered 
 about her wan mouth. 
 
 " Mrs. Dawson Mrs. Dawson said she 
 would go right home. She was anxious 
 about Bessie. Bessie gets she gets croup, 
 doesn't she? " 
 
 " Oh Lord, yes ! She gets croup all right," 
 said Dawson in a tone that he vaguely sup- 
 posed to be comforting. " It's a mean kind of 
 a thing croup." 
 
 He babbled on with mechanical loquacity, and 
 even lured Homfrey into a remark concerning a 
 question of local politics. Anything, to give 
 this woman time! 
 
 And all the while he was thinking of the 
 secret of those two faces. 
 
 " Well, I'd better be going," said Jack. 
 223
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda had not looked at him since that first 
 moment; she was angry, of course, because he 
 had brought up the forbidden question. But 
 when it had become matter for a sensational 
 newspaper, it was surely her duty to place her 
 knowledge of him in his hands. " Harring's 
 in town to-night. He'll be looking for me at 
 his place." 
 
 " No." It was the stillest word ; Richarda 
 put out her hand. " You'll stay here, Jack." 
 
 Homfrey turned with a sharp movement 
 he was about to speak, but Dawson broke in. 
 
 " What's the racket anyway, Jack? " he 
 asked in an open, genial voice which seemed to 
 clear the air. " You're no grafter. What have 
 they got you mixed up in the row for? " 
 
 Better let the boy cool his blood in talk, now 
 that so much had been said. College matters 
 must be safe enough. As for the rest but 
 there Dawson halted. 
 
 Jack unconsciously squared his shoulders. 
 " I am mixed up in it. There's hardly anything 
 in college that I'm not mixed up in. This time 
 the Faculty got a virtuous streak, and made up 
 its mind to clean out ' graft ' in the student 
 organisations. That's all right. But they go 
 at it all wrong. They get hold of little Billy
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Park, who is about as innocent a thing as there 
 is on the Campus. He was chairman of the comr- 
 mittee on the class button, and thought it was 
 the usual courtesy when Klein and Webster of- 
 fered him what was virtually a commission on 
 the order. But the Faculty jumps on him, and 
 then lets Hoffman, the meanest cheat we've got, 
 go scot free because he's president of the stu- 
 dents' Y. M. C. A. They're afraid to jump on 
 him, because the grannies think it might injure 
 the 4 cause.' They don't seem to understand that 
 it injures the * cause ' much more not to jump on 
 on him. A fellow who takes his notes to exam- 
 inations ! " Jack lifted his shoulders. " Billy 
 Park would cut off his right hand before he 
 would do that." 
 
 The boy was afire now ; he stood in the middle 
 of the room, master of it. 
 
 " Do you think I'd stand that? to see little 
 Billy suspended for six months, when I knew his 
 mother had all she could do to keep things going 
 until he'd graduate in June ! 
 
 " Those professors those regents they 
 aren't czars with power to do right or wrong as 
 it suits their whim. Did they suppose we'd all 
 keep still and see that kind of thing go through ? 
 No \ " the two slight hands came together 
 225
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in an excited blow. " Someone had to wade in. 
 I said I was willing to. The end of the thing 
 was that I sent in a request to the Faculty, stat- 
 ing my right as a protesting student to meet 
 them, and submit to them another view of the 
 matter." 
 
 A muffled exclamation escaped Dawson he 
 looked at Homfrey. How could the man sit 
 there, so withdrawn, so steeled against this boy? 
 
 But Homfrey was listening stirred as no 
 one else in the room was stirred, by the dramatic 
 simplicity with which Jack told his story. It 
 appealed to the forensic side of him as a fine 
 piece of work, but that only increased his irrita- 
 tion. Here again, was this boy doing just what 
 he might have done when he was a student. This 
 was not a matter of clever imitation it was 
 as the original work of his own mind. In his 
 college days, he had been the torment of the 
 authorities by the brilliance alike of his good 
 and evil deeds. The uneventful mean of medi- 
 ocrity had never appealed to him. It never 
 would to this fellow. One had only to look at 
 him to perceive that. 
 
 Richarda sighed. Jack turned to her, and 
 for the first time smiled: for she was looking at 
 him. " There was an awful rumpus then, 
 226
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Lady," he said sweetly. " Maxwell told me 
 afterwards." 
 
 " Did he stand by you ? " she asked in a voice 
 so light that it seemed as if she feared the sound 
 cf it. 
 
 Jack laughed. " He stand by me? Never ! 
 That isn't Maxwell. He stood o/f, and laughed 
 at the whole show at the Faculty, at me, and 
 probably at himself. But after all Oh, I 
 know he wasn't ashamed of me." 
 
 The last words sank they were meant for 
 Lady alone. For the boy's heart was aching for 
 a sign from her he must know that she " stood 
 by." 
 
 " My poor Jack ! " It was a cry, just 
 breathed. But he heard it. 
 
 " It was a show, too. They had a lot of 
 meetings before they gave in to the idea of allow- 
 ing a student to have his say in the matter. But 
 I got what I was after at last, even though it 
 came in the form of a * summons to appear,' as 
 it were. That suited me. At the time ap- 
 pointed, I ' appeared.' It was pretty exciting, 
 Lady." 
 
 Again there was the note of craving for the 
 sympathy that was so necessary to him. He re- 
 alised that had he been a son, his family would 
 227
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 have known this story by now from beginning to 
 end that he would have been welcomed home 
 as a hero. For as a hero he had left Waverley 
 that evening, lifted on board the train over the 
 shoulders of densely massed students. He had 
 scored a triumph, and here, in the place that he 
 had called home, it was thrown back at him as 
 disgrace. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " In this moment Richarda gave 
 to him all that he asked. " And what happened 
 then?" 
 
 " What happened? " Jack's head was up. 
 " Why, I just talked to them. That was all. I 
 said everything I had ever thought someone 
 ought to say to them. I gave them the straight 
 of the whole * graft ' business. I didn't let 
 Hoffman off either. When I first mentioned 
 him, two of his protectors, whose feet he has 
 always licked, jumped up. I went right on, 
 but they drowned me out. I waited until I had 
 a chance. Then I said : ' Gentlemen, if you 
 wish to hear the truth, you will give me the 
 courtesy of a hearing. But it is your privilege 
 to refuse to hear the truth as the students know 
 it.' " 
 
 " Great ! " Dawson could not keep still an in- 
 stant longer. 
 
 228
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " There was the funniest quiet after that. 
 When I was done with Hoffman well, just for 
 a moment I waited. I was sort of frightened all 
 at once. But I remembered what I had deter- 
 mined I would say, before I came, and I knew 
 I must stick it out if I was to keep faith with the 
 fellows. And I waded in. I asked how many 
 of the professors were in a position to kick when 
 it came to the question of graft. I said : ' What 
 about text-books ? ' Then I heard Maxwell's 
 great laugh. It tore me wide open. I knew 
 what he was thinking he hadn't believed I had 
 the grit to take that up. So I said : ' What 
 about the order for a new edition of England 
 in the Sixteenth Century, because of the inser- 
 tion of one new chapter which the professor 
 could very well have given to the class in an hour 
 or two ? ' I gave instance after instance of 
 such cases of books thrown out merely in 
 order to swell royalties the royalties of the 
 professors who had written them." 
 
 " Jack ! How could you ? " Richarda's eyes 
 shone. 
 
 " That brought a dozen of them up. But I 
 was done. I had said all I came to say. No- 
 body noticed me as I went out: for those who 
 weren't laughing at somebody else were too mad. 
 229
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 And once outside, I laughed too. It all seemed 
 so silly. But it hadn't while I was in it. 
 
 " The fellows were waiting for me in a bunch. 
 I said: 'Well, I've done it just the way I 
 told you I would.' That seemed to scare them. 
 It sort of scared me too, when I saw they hadn't 
 really expected me to. We all went back to 
 the house, as solemn as a funeral. They 
 couldn't do enough for me. You see, they 
 thought I was as good as kicked out already. 
 
 " After that we waited, expecting every day 
 that something would happen, but nothing did. 
 That was sort of discouraging, for we had got 
 ourselves ready for a great deal. And it wasn't 
 until Tuesday morning that an insignificant note 
 appeared in the University Happenings column 
 of the papers, saying that the Faculty had voted 
 to reconsider the case of a recently suspended 
 Senior, some further evidence in the matter hav- 
 ing come under their notice. It was a kind of 
 sneaky way for them to do it, but after all it was 
 a big back-down. The fellows went crazy, and 
 I well, I felt sort of set up, Lady." Jack 
 laughed happily. 
 
 Richarda was divided between emotions 
 pride in the boy who thus justified her faith in 
 him, and deadly fear of that question he had not 
 230
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 shrunk from asking here. She smiled, while her 
 lips trembled. 
 
 " But last night Maxwell told me we hadn't 
 spoken of the matter at all before that that's 
 like him, you know well, he told me that after 
 I left that meeting, there was what he called a 
 ' hell of a good time.' They talked themselves 
 madder and hoarser until somebody started a 
 call for ' Maxwell.' He got up and said, 
 ' Thank you, gentlemen,' and sat down. Then 
 of course they simply howled for him. At last 
 he got up again, and said: ' Gentlemen, at least 
 let us not prove ourselves to be the asses the stu- 
 dents evidently consider us, not to speak of 
 knaves. I move that we reconsider the case of 
 Park.' 
 
 " Never ! they would resign first. But they 
 carried that motion just the same. And since 
 then every effort has been made to hush the 
 thing up. 
 
 " In the meantime " there was no smile on 
 Jack's face now "the story in the Journal that 
 I was summoned before the Faculty on charges 
 of graft, is a lie which I propose to settle for 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Yes, yes, my boy," said Dawson quickly. 
 " You'll have to fix that up. If you want any
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 help, let me know. Guess I'll have a little talk 
 with Finch over the phone in the morning any- 
 way. I'll tell him a few things I'm sure he will 
 appreciate knowing. By the way, Mrs. Hom- 
 f rey, have you heard from Mrs. Lewin lately ? " 
 
 It was time for Dawson to go home ; he knew 
 that, but he too was fearing the question Jack 
 had asked. He saw that every now and then 
 Richarda grew as white as she had when she 
 first came in ; he began to understand of what 
 she was afraid, or he thought he did. No ; he 
 was not even sure of that. 
 
 " Hattie ? Oh yes, I hear from her rather 
 often. I think I'm a sort of safety-valve for 
 her. She's living in a cottage, and doing her 
 own work. Isn't she a wonder? " 
 
 "And Tommy?" 
 
 " It seems to be harder on him than on her. 
 He can't get used to seeing her work. He has 
 begun to make money, and he would like to see 
 her use it. But she won't. She says that to 
 satisfy her, he has to be a bigger man than he 
 was before, and that that's going to take time 
 and all the money they can save. She doesn't 
 believe that he's really convinced that she has 
 come to stay, yet. She has to remind him con- 
 tinually that she's there. ' for keeps.' "
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Bless my soul ! " exclaimed Dawson : 
 " Women well, women " 
 
 A strange little smile crossed Richarda's face. 
 "Yes, aren't they?" 
 
 He got up to go, for there seemed nothing else 
 to do. " You bring the Journal up standing in 
 the morning," he said to Jack; then he turned 
 to Homfrey. 
 
 But Jack spoke. " What chance have I to 
 bring the Journal up standing? I don't care 
 anything about the graft question. It's the 
 rest of that article that matters. I want to 
 know who I am. I'm tired of the shame of not 
 knowing." 
 
 He looked at Richarda. As if called to judg- 
 ment she rose from her chair, but with a stillness 
 of movement that had a certain majesty. 
 
 " I want to know, Lady." Jack's tone was a 
 demand. 
 
 For a moment Richarda looked at him; her 
 eyes wandered first to Dawson, then to her hus- 
 band. 
 
 " Tim ! " The word broke from her it was 
 a cry to him. 
 
 " Good Lord ! " exclaimed Homfrey he 
 threw down his book " It seems to me you have 
 a taste for the melodramatic, young man." He 
 233
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 glanced contemptuously at Jack. " But you, 
 Charda " his voice softened " tell him 
 what he wants to know. But haven't you told 
 him?" 
 
 " No." It was Jack who answered. 
 
 Homfrey ignored him. " Tell him, dear. I 
 think he ought to know all that you do." 
 
 llicharda was silent her eyes did not leave 
 her husband's face. 
 
 " Tell him ! " repeated Homfrey. There was 
 a touch of impatience in his voice. 
 
 " You would have me tell him," she said. 
 There was no life in the words. 
 
 " My dear, yes ! The sooner the better. Why 
 not? Though I should think your protege 
 would regret his importunity. I should have 
 imagined that in a case like this, ignorance was 
 preferable to knowledge." 
 
 Jack stepped forward. The strain of the 
 past weeks was telling upon him ; there had been 
 so much excitement, and on top of everything 
 this article in the Journal, spiced with inuendo 
 inspired doubtless by the discredited Hoff- 
 man. 
 
 Yet for a moment he hesitated ; he had a be- 
 wildered sense that because of Lady he must not 
 speak he had forgotten just why he felt 
 234
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 suddenly tired of everything. But he ought to 
 know. 
 
 " Lady ! " he said imploringly. 
 
 Richarda looked at him, but as if she did not 
 see him he had a strange realisation of her 
 stillness, of figure as well as of face. But he 
 interpreted her manner as suggestive of indiffer- 
 ence to him ; he flushed deeply. 
 
 " Lady " his tone changed " why don't 
 you tell me? I've asked before, and you said 
 you couldn't you said " 
 
 " Perhaps I had better tell you what little 
 there is to tell," said Homfrey. His voice bit. 
 "My wife " 
 
 Jack turned on him. " You ! " " What do 
 you know about it. Lady told me herself " 
 
 " Jack ! " 
 
 It was Richarda, her face transformed from a 
 thing of stone to living entreaty ; she caught his 
 hands in those clinging ones of hers, in which it 
 seemed as though her heart were beating. 
 
 " Jack ! " she said again. 
 
 There was silence in the room. 
 
 And in that silence Richarda conquered, as she 
 had conquered before. 
 
 " Oh Lady ! " 
 
 In the simple exclamation there was the mem- 
 235
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ory of all that Jack knew he owed her there 
 was the recognition of all that demanded chival- 
 rous sacrifice of himself to her. It was the least 
 he could do. So it seemed to his sensitive spirit 
 in this moment of emotion which he did not un- 
 derstand. 
 
 And the two men on the outskirts, misunder- 
 stood in proportion to their degrees of ignorance 
 and knowledge. To Homfrey it was simple 
 enough. Richarda had intervened, as often be- 
 fore, between him and this boy's insufferable 
 rudeness. Indifferent again, he turned back to 
 his book. 
 
 " Jack " Richarda's face was still, her eyes 
 seemed to be watching the words upon her lips 
 " I will tell you what you ought to know." 
 She intercepted his start of surprise with a 
 quicker movement of words she counted on 
 his understanding her as she went on. " I did 
 not know your mother, but she had heard of me. 
 She had been told that I was kind " Richarda 
 smiled tremulously " And she thought that 
 perhaps I would take you because she had no 
 home for you." 
 
 Jack understood ; he was to receive this story 
 as though for the first time. 
 
 " She had been very unhappy, Jack. But 
 236
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 she was ambitious for you. She wanted you to 
 have what she thought was the best. After I 
 took you, she went away. I have never heard 
 from her since. But I had you, and I have 
 tried" 
 
 " I know. But the man " the boy's 
 
 voice was charged with uncontrollable passion ; 
 it was not possible for him to keep to the part 
 assigned to him. " The man my father " 
 
 Richarda held up her hand. " I never asked 
 to know anything of him." 
 
 Dawson breathed deeply, but no one noticed 
 him. The next moment he. was saying good- 
 night as casually as if the evening had been the 
 most uneventful. Richarda went with him to 
 the door ; she felt choked she must breathe 
 the good, cold air in the safe, still darkness, if 
 only for a moment. But it seemed to her that 
 Dawson looked at her strangely as they went 
 out. 
 
 " What is it? Is anything the matter with 
 me? " she asked nervously, and then was ap- 
 palled by the question. 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 Dawson walked a block or two without think- 
 ing he was very tired. Then he began. 
 
 Why had she kept silent? he wrestled with 
 237
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the question, unable to compass a satisfactory 
 answer to it, in spite of his legal skill in deter- 
 mining the motives of men. 
 
 Sooner or later someone else must see what he 
 had seen to-night. Yet perhaps not ; a moment 
 which forced every hidden resemblance to the sur- 
 face might not occur again in a life-time. 
 
 He recalled Homfrey's youth the man to- 
 day was of another mould. He had married on 
 an impulse of passion, yet all the while coldly 
 critical of his condition. He had regarded the 
 girl he loved as the victim of a disease which 
 men and women may not escape, but from which 
 they may haply recover. On his wedding-day 
 he had written that he thought it not improbable 
 that his convalescence might be as fascinating to 
 him in its various stages, as had been the pro- 
 gress of the disease towards crisis. 
 
 Dawson knew that to state it in terms of ut- 
 most truth, Homfrey had not held himself bound 
 to render to the woman he married anything fur- 
 ther than the great opportunity of experience. 
 In those days he would have argued that the more 
 of discipline they brought to each other, the 
 larger their mutual obligation. 
 
 So had Homfrey reasoned, determined to state 
 the truth as he thought he believed it, until the 
 238
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 very moment when he went out to say the words 
 which he had characterised as the most irrational 
 by which man ever perjured himself. 
 
 But he left out of the case the greatest factor 
 in it the nature of the woman he married. 
 
 " He doesn't know it yet," argued Dawson. 
 " He doesn't know that she is the force behind 
 their marriage. He adores her without knowing 
 that he does because she is his wife because 
 she loves him because, though he doesn't know 
 how, she makes him love her. That has been the 
 story of their marriage." 
 
 For nearly twenty years that woman had held 
 her soul silent, defying her husband in one thing 
 alone ; in all else seeking only his happiness. 
 
 Why had she kept silent? Ah, given such a 
 woman, Dawson saw clearly that there was only 
 one answer to that question. But he did not un- 
 derstand how that could be he felt humbly 
 that here was a mystery beyond the comprehen- 
 sion of any man. She had made a great choice ; 
 it was not for him ignorantly to question the 
 wisdom of it. She alone could understand her 
 reasons for the way she had taken she knew 
 the man Homfrey as none other could. 
 
 He thought further and further, until he had 
 worked out a situation which bore a close re- 
 239
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 semblance to the real occurrence. And the longer 
 he thought about it, the more he became con- 
 scious of the pressure upon himself of her deter- 
 mination to silence what proof that was of the 
 power in this woman! 
 
 " Poor little girl ! " he said softly. For he 
 was a man of deep emotions and romantic senti- 
 ments so deep and so romantic that he jeal- 
 ously shielded one side of his nature from the 
 common eye. 
 
 When he reached home, he found his wife 
 waiting for him ; he went over and kissed her. 
 But he said and something in his voice made 
 her look up used though she was to his im- 
 pulsive outbursts : " Sarah, there is a God. 
 There must be. But I never thought so until to- 
 night. It's a great thing, isn't it? the love 
 of a woman." 
 
 " Henry ! " Mrs. Dawson's tone was of mild- 
 est astonishment : " What is the matter with 
 you? Aren't you well, dear? " 
 
 240
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Jack settled into his senior year's work in a 
 determined frame of mind ; at times he realised 
 moodily enough, as most seniors do, that the re- 
 sponsibilities of life loomed dangerously near. 
 The short term of youth's easy probation would 
 soon be at an end; he began to experience the 
 vague fears of a man without material equip- 
 ment, whose future is dependent upon the most 
 intangible of possessions. Yet he was eager to 
 be free, to know himself at last earning his own 
 bread, however scant of butter it might be. To 
 admit that he was a dependent of Homfrey 
 became each day more galling to him ; the fiction 
 that it was Richarda's money that provided for 
 him no longer availed, for as Maxwell fre- 
 quently stated in his class-room for the tor- 
 menting of unfortunate " co-eds," a woman 
 was still all twaddle to the contrary not- 
 withstanding as completely a chattel of 
 her husband's as in the days when she 
 was frankly a matter of barter. She had no 
 more right in his income than his dog had.
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Marriage was in no sense an affair of financial 
 partnership ; one man gave his wife an " allow- 
 ance" and felt righteous another professed to 
 abhor the idea as imparting a commercial aspect 
 to a relationship which transcended such sordid 
 details as dollars and cents, and provided for his 
 wife sparely or lavishly entirely as his nature in- 
 clined him ; and each believed himself generous. 
 The husband grew richer or poorer ; was mas- 
 ter or slave in the world of business, but the 
 wife's financial status remained the same. " Or," 
 as Maxwell stated at the close of a memorable 
 lecture " she remains minus any status. And 
 why not? What influence does the wife of a 
 man who is rounding up, let us say, a hundred 
 thousand a year, have in has making of it ? Very 
 little, if any, I answer, though I appreciate the 
 fact that it is not popular to say so. Successful 
 men who have been fortunate enough to make 
 what they are pleased to call happy marriages, 
 are apt to humour their wives by attributing 
 their rise in life to them. The measure is a po- 
 litic one, and it costs nothing. But the gentle- 
 men are not fooled. They know that the woman 
 in the case was entirely outside of it. A man's 
 success is a matter of what is within himself, and 
 what is outside of him in the way of fortuitous
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 circumstance in the business world. Given an 
 adventitious meeting of the one with the other, 
 and no mere woman makes or mars. But this 
 is a matter between ourselves, gentlemen. And 
 if the ladies object to our various methods of 
 supporting them " he shrugged his shoulders 
 amid the outburst that his gesture no less than 
 his words invited. 
 
 Dear, innocent Lady ! such thoughts as 
 these had never entered her mind ; she could not 
 have dreamed of them in any man's. She had 
 the serenity of profound faith in her own dignity 
 and in her value to Homfrey, which was the 
 natural result of the devotion to her of a man 
 of most critical discrimination as to women. She 
 was moreover, a woman of great simplicity and 
 sureness of taste in the matter of her expendi- 
 tures Homfrey had never known the gall of 
 paying the bills of a woman's folly and igno- 
 rance. The question of money never arose be- 
 tween them, and it had never occurred to him to 
 think of himself as supporting Jack. 
 
 But Jack could hardly have been convinced of 
 that. It was inevitable that he should judge 
 Homfrey according to his knowledge of him in 
 relation to himself. And Homf rey's attitude had 
 always been one of withholding. 
 243
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " By the way," said Maxwell casually one 
 morning, " there's a little talk about considering 
 you for an instructorship here next year. Oh, 
 it may not come to anything " he took in the 
 leap in Jack's eyes " but I thought I'd tell 
 you. Personally, I am opposed to the idea. I 
 should recommend you to take a year or so in 
 Berlin first." 
 
 " I couldn't do that." 
 
 " I see." Maxwell knew something of the 
 conditions in which Jack was placed, but he was 
 devoid of the curiosity which seeks informing 
 detail. The hows or whys of a man's nature and 
 development did not interest him it was 
 enough that he was or was not this or that, 
 without being bored by the causes thereof. He 
 understood that there was some sort of mystery 
 about the boy so much the better ; there was 
 too little about most students. After you had 
 once seen their parents, they were amply ac- 
 counted for. But this rare bird better leave 
 the imagination unfettered as to the nest in 
 which he had feathered. It mattered nothing 
 all that did matter was that it had winged 
 him. 
 
 " That might be a mistake, of course not 
 to do it," he continued now with a yawn as if 
 244
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 uninterested. " Time seems in a great hurry 
 when you're one-and-twenty. It lasts though, 
 longer than you'd think. If it's a question of 
 the wherewithal " he threw open the palms of 
 his hands " Oh, a man's chest looks hollow if 
 he hasn't any pride, but he needn't make a pouter 
 pigeon of himself. And as for what you would 
 need to do Berlin and something more " he 
 waved Jack away. " Good-night Good- 
 night." 
 
 The fact that there hovered above his future 
 the possibility of a position on the staff certainly 
 added to Jack's estimate of himself a touch of 
 dignity. The man began to feel himself, which 
 was doubtless what Maxwell desired. He was 
 not, as he had said, interested in seeing the boy 
 in the position so soon, for he cherished the in- 
 tention of making an ultimate position for him 
 at Waverley of more immediate importance than 
 an instructorship. 
 
 Thus, to all appearances, the world was going 
 very well with Jack. But within himself the 
 boy's blood was in torment. He had been too 
 apt a disciple; he had learnt too well the trick 
 of doubting the sincerity of every motive, of 
 every emotion. Yet at times he grew heart-sick 
 of his doubts. To amuse and interest him taxed 
 245
 
 Betty Carter to distraction ; they had long since 
 passed the place where pretty speeches and poses 
 availed. If her influence was a perilous one for 
 him, he was rapidly demoralising what little of 
 scruple remained to her. She understood that 
 he would not marry her or any girl, so long as 
 his mind was imbued with his present views on 
 the subject of marriage. 
 
 " Look at the men on the Faculty," he argued, 
 '* who are tied down with wives and children. 
 Their one idea is how to meet expenses. And 
 what better is the world for their commonplace 
 children? In their souls they're all envying the 
 men who've kept clear, and who can go abroad 
 every year, and buy what books they want, and 
 live the full lives of men whose interests are not 
 bound by four walls." 
 
 " I see," said Betty. 
 
 " Marriage doesn't do a thing for a man ex- 
 cept make him a slave." 
 
 " I suppose not," said Betty ; and looked long 
 at Jack, until suddenly the colour flared in her 
 face. 
 
 " You're such a good fellow, Betty," said Jack 
 easily. " A fellow can talk to you just as he 
 thinks." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 246
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 But the next night Betty's door did not open 
 to Jack's quick tap. He felt amused, and ran 
 lightly down the stairs; he would see her to- 
 morrow morning when they crossed the Campus 
 at eleven. 
 
 But when he said : " Oh, I have tickets for 
 the Comedy Club I went over to tell you last 
 night, but you weren't there " she looked up 
 at him with a distinct air of surprise, and said 
 sweetly : " You meant to take me? Oh " she 
 paused then : " But I'm going with Mr. 
 Hutchinson." 
 
 " Going with Hutchinson ? " 
 
 "Yes. Do you mind?" 
 
 He looked at her a moment then made a 
 casual remark, and they went their separate 
 ways. 
 
 That was the woman of it! Always some 
 little game, some adroit juggling, the Lord only 
 knew for what end. He was annoyed, yet 
 amused, and pleased with his mature understand- 
 ing of the ways of women. 
 
 Old Hutch! of all the fellows. Why, 
 Hutch had always dismissed the subject of Betty 
 with indifference. She was not his sort of girl 
 in any way ; he was sure of that, for he knew 
 Hutch's soul as he knew his own. During the 
 247
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 last year they had become inseparable, one tem- 
 perament seeming to act as a safety-valve to the 
 other. Jack had spent several vacations in 
 Hutchinson's home, where the mother received 
 him as her son's friend with a gentle affection 
 which had touched him deeply. 
 
 Betty must leave old Hutch alone. 
 
 What nonsense! Hutch was amply able to 
 take care of himself. 
 
 But Jack straightway determined to treat 
 Betty to a taste of discipline he left her alone 
 for a whole week. Which was all that Betty 
 could have asked of a kindly conspiring Fate. 
 
 Naturally, as a result of his disciplinary meas- 
 ure, he expected a wholesome regenerating of 
 Betty, though he was not sure just what that 
 implied. But Betty made no reference to his 
 defection, when she received him again; there 
 was merely a touch of timidity in her manner, 
 new and charming. And her simple little gown 
 appeared to match the simplicity of her mood ; 
 she was busy too, on a tiny pinafore " for my 
 wee cousin," she explained gravely. 
 
 This was an unsuspected Betty ; a Betty ador- 
 able, quaintly piquante; the sort of girl a man 
 married, were he a marrying sort of man, and 
 afterwards but Jack was tired of analysing 
 248
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the " afterwards " of life To-night he, too, 
 felt in the mood to be innocently happy. 
 
 They began by discussing the little immediate 
 things, but before long they were deep in a talk 
 that dealt intimately with their past lives and 
 emotions. Jack heard a great deal about the 
 stern, God-fearing minister that simple man 
 loomed large, into proportions quite heroic, un- 
 der his daughter's deft picturing of him. The 
 little French mother Ah, that accounted, no 
 doubt for some of Betty's baffling ways ! so 
 long dead, that Betty had only a faint remem- 
 brance of frills, and perfume, and lisping lullaby 
 " Oh, you never can understand :" the big 
 brown eyes were far away " what it means to 
 a girl to grow up without her mother." 
 
 " Poor little Betty ! " 
 
 But she smiled. " You must forgive me it 
 must seem so childish to talk to you about such 
 things. I never do to anyone, you know. I 
 can't think what makes me so what makes me 
 feel as I do to-night." 
 
 As for Jack, he felt himself bewitched by 
 Betty, and it was a delightful experience; he 
 might as well make the most of it while it lasted. 
 The charm of the room with its shaded lamps 
 Betty was rather given to many lights but little 
 249
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 illumination had an effect upon a man at 
 which he had often smiled, but to-night it all 
 seemed appealingly simple there were evident 
 none of those pretty tricks and coquetries of pre- 
 arrangement which had often irritated him. He 
 liked her as he had never liked her before, in that 
 simple little gown, with her thick hair gathered 
 low on her neck under a broad brown bow. 
 There was a fascination too, in watching her 
 sew he had never imagined Betty doing any- 
 thing like that. 
 
 She was a Betty new to him. Had he always 
 misunderstood her ? was there something here 
 for which he had not made allowance? Had he, 
 perhaps, man that he was, with his broader grasp 
 of things as they were, had he been to blame 
 for the intellectual flippancy with which she had 
 dismissed from connection with herself that seri- 
 ous point of view in regard to her duties in life 
 which was, after all, inherently feminine and 
 desirable? A woman was made to be wooed and 
 won at a man's pleasure. But that had never 
 been Betty's attitude. She had had too much 
 admiration. It had led her to forget that she 
 was only a woman, with a woman's fate before 
 her. 
 
 Dear little Betty she was not to blame for 
 250
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 that ! From the time she could toddle, there had 
 probably been a boy on one side of her, glaring 
 at the one on the other. 
 
 The University clock struck the hour; the 
 night was very still. " Oh ! " said Betty in 
 quite a frightened voice. She stood up, looking 
 deliciously prim and straight. " You must go." 
 
 " Must ! " and Jack sat deeper in his chair. 
 
 " Yes yes." 
 
 He said nothing; he was looking at her; she 
 stooped and pulled a long white thread from 
 the hem of her gown. 
 
 What a curve ! He sat up. 
 
 " Betty, come here ! " he laid his hand on the 
 broad arm of his chair. 
 
 " There ? " She hesitated, embarrassed ; her 
 colour deepened; her eyes had the depths of 
 tears. 
 
 "Come!" 
 
 He felt suddenly elated conscious master of 
 her in this shrinking girlishness which he had 
 discovered beneath the artifice and coquetry 
 which were her mask to other men. He held out 
 his hand, demanding. 
 
 And she came, stepping slowly ; she sat down 
 at last on furthest edge. But that was near. 
 
 " Betty " he caught her hand in his 
 251
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Why aren't you always as you've been to- 
 night? Why aren't you always as sweet, as 
 simple " 
 
 She turned on him in sudden anger. " Oh, 
 you would have me always as I really am you 
 would have me be myself to every Tom, Dick 
 and Harry ! You think that a girl like me, 
 who has to endure so much that she hates you 
 think that she has no right to protect herself 
 to keep to herself what she loves best in her- 
 self? " 
 
 "Betty ! " 
 
 "Yes Betty! It's Betty here, and Betty 
 there, and Betty to everybody until I'm tired of 
 it." 
 
 " Betty ! " He had both her hands in his 
 now, but she flared on. 
 
 " And to-night to-night I felt more tired of 
 it all than I had ever felt before. I didn't know 
 you were coming I thought perhaps I should 
 be alone all the long quiet evening I got into 
 this little old gown, and I was going to forget 
 Oh, so many things I was going to let 
 myself go I was going to dream the way a 
 girl loves to dream. Men don't understand. A 
 girl" 
 
 " Betty ! " she was in his arms now ; his 
 252
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 breath came very fast and hers ; her lips were 
 near. 
 
 " You frighten me so ! " she whispered. 
 
 "I? frighten you? " he kissed her. But 
 he had kissed her before to-night. 
 
 " Yes. I can't ever be real with you. You 
 would laugh at that. I have to pretend. I 
 don't mind with the others. But with you " 
 
 He silenced her, and for a little while she was 
 happy. Then she grew suddenly afraid. 
 
 " Oh Jack, go home ! Please go home." 
 
 " Why should I go home? " 
 
 " It's so late," she faltered. 
 
 He stood up hesitated for a moment 
 then sat down. 
 
 " Betty ! " 
 
 " Jack ! " her voice was sharp. " Don't 
 look at me like that." 
 
 His own words upon her h'ps now ! He 
 remembered. But he was past caring. 
 
 She began to cry a strange thing for Betty 
 to do. Confused thoughts of her father crept 
 through her mind ; she had never loved him, but 
 in this moment she had a curious consciousness 
 of his love for her, and of its presence about her, 
 cherishing, protecting. 
 
 "Betty!" 
 
 253
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She looked at Jack, and turned her face away. 
 But he took her hands in his he knelt beside 
 her. " Betty, you don't want me to go away. 
 Say that you don't. I love you. And you love 
 me." 
 
 " I don't love you." 
 
 The boy laughed, his voice strung high. And 
 he kissed her, again and again, until she cried 
 no more until she grew strangely sweet, and 
 still, and wan with fear of herself and him. 
 
 It was a wonderful hour that followed. For 
 it was the first of that sort that had come 
 to either of them. 
 
 The night was still the same night the 
 stars still serenely afloat in their spaces, when 
 Jack slipped through the streets to his room. 
 He looked up into the darkness with a sense of 
 embarrassment; the eyes of Eternity seemed 
 upon him. 
 
 And Betty ! long after they had parted she 
 sat following the sound of his footsteps into the 
 silence. She had a desperate longing to stay 
 time where it was, that she might keep her soul 
 true to the experience of this night. But the 
 bitterness of intuition was upon her; she under- 
 stood that she was never to know again, in all its 
 254
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 stinging sweetness, the innocence of surren- 
 der. 
 
 But when the next day came, she put the in- 
 dulgence of emotion deliberately from her. For 
 she must think never more straightly than 
 now. She knew that she had reached the mo- 
 ment when Jack would marry her if she 
 wished to marry him. 
 
 But there was Hutchinson. He had every- 
 thing to offer her everything that, temporar- 
 ily at least, she craved. He came of one of the 
 wealthiest old families in the state; he spent 
 money with the indifference of the man born to 
 it. 
 
 It was not for Jack that the little brown frock 
 had been donned it was for this other, simpler 
 man, who in spite of asservation and belief to 
 the contrary, guarded an inner life of sentiment, 
 delicate and fantastic as maiden's dreams. He 
 had told Betty, and shyly caught her wistful 
 look, that when he was at home, and knelt in 
 church beside his mother, the prayer that rose 
 to his lips was always the same : God send me a 
 wife like mother. 
 
 He had all else that he was conscious of want- 
 ing; the way of life had been made smooth for 
 255
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 him. But a wife little children over hopes 
 of these his heart yearned, demanding. 
 
 He had all that Betty knew she must have. 
 
 She hid her face in her hands. For she did 
 not want Hutchinson she wanted Jack. 
 
 256
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 It was six weeks later; the end of the college 
 year drew close, and Jack was a busy man ; he 
 emphasized that again to Betty to-night. 
 
 "Yes, of course we're all busy just now." 
 She laughed, but as she saw that he really meant 
 to go, she stiffened. " Jack " 
 
 " Well ? " It was a question, but curiously 
 uninviting in tone. 
 
 " You remember the other night what 
 we talked about? " 
 
 "What was that?" 
 
 " Oh, nothing, except that you seemed to think 
 that perhaps we had better get married." 
 
 "I thought that?" 
 
 "Yes. Why not?" 
 
 " Why discuss that again, Betty. You 
 would be wasted on me." 
 
 " Wasted on you ? " 
 
 The boy's hands dropped wearily to his side. 
 
 " Must we go all over that again ? You know 
 
 as well as I do that it's useless. You don't want 
 
 to marry me. You're just letting yourself fool 
 
 257
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 when you pretend to think that you do." He 
 laughed mirthlessly. " You're meant for better 
 things, Betty." 
 
 "Ami? What, for instance?" 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders; then without an- 
 swer, rose from his chair. 
 
 " Jack ! " 
 
 ' " Well ? " he said again in the same tone as 
 before. 
 
 But this time Betty said nothing. 
 
 " I must be off really." He did not look 
 at her. " I'm due at Maxwell's at ten. He 
 rowed me pretty well the other night for being 
 BO late." 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I'm rushed to death," he continued nerv- 
 ously. " There's the class poem I can't get 
 it to come." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 " I've never been so stuck before." 
 
 "How unfortunate just now." 
 
 Jack looked at her an exclamation rose to 
 his lips, but he held it unuttered, and picked up 
 his hat. 
 
 Betty did not move, nor was there any change 
 of expression in her face; she stood apparently 
 absorbed in her thoughts, slowly pulling apart 
 258
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the white rose which still came to her every Sat- 
 urday night. But when Jack reached the door, 
 and yet lingered, she looked up. 
 
 " You take a long time going, don't you ? " 
 she said in her sweet, full voice. 
 
 The color rushed into Jack's colourless face. 
 " Yes. Because there's something I want to say 
 to you. Don't you think you had better leave 
 Hutchinson alone? " 
 
 Betty smiled. " Is that what you came here 
 to-night for to say that to me ? " 
 
 " Old Hutch isn't your sort, Betty." 
 
 " Ah ! " she considered. " Not like you, for 
 instance? " She flashed a glance at him which 
 was like the stab of a knife. 
 
 " Like me ? " He returned her a look not 
 good to see. But he added quietly enough: 
 " Me ! I'm anybody's sort. Good-night." 
 
 But a moment after he had closed the door it 
 opened again ; he looked in. " Betty " he 
 paused in despair; she was still standing there, 
 tearing the rose petals into tiny strips ; there was 
 ^something so suggestive in her calm destructive- 
 ness that he felt an unreasoning fear of her. 
 " Betty, you'll remember what I said about leav- 
 ing Hutchinson alone." He had a confused im- 
 pression that he was not saying the wise thing, 
 259
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 but he was suddenly overwhelmed with the feel- 
 ing that he must protect his friend, and he fell 
 back inevitably on the masculinely authoritative 
 pose. 
 
 Betty looked up. " You want me to leave Mr. 
 Hutchinson alone? " she laughed softly. But 
 in the next breath she was another creature. 
 " How dare you say that to me you ! You 
 think that because I " 
 
 " I don't think anything," he protested help- 
 lessly. 
 
 Betty picked up the little heap of mangled 
 petals, and let shred after shred drop slowly 
 through her fingers into the waste-basket. Then 
 she laughed again because she was so afraid 
 she might cry. 
 
 " Good-night," she said conclusively. And 
 because there seemed to be nothing else to do, 
 Jack went. 
 
 Left alone, she sat still for a long time, the 
 tension of her fingers unrelaxed, for the passion 
 she had known for Jack died hard in her blood. 
 
 What had happened ? she was trying to 
 understand, and not yet successfully. Betty 
 was not a poet she was a scientist ; in the mo- 
 ment of most reckless self-abandonment that she 
 was ever to know that was past for her now 
 260
 
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 her calculating finger had been cool upon the 
 fevered pulsing of her blood. She was born with 
 the ability to understand and manipulate her 
 own passion, but she did not understand the boy 
 whom she had succeeded in making its victim. 
 
 " Six weeks ago what did he care for an en- 
 gagement with Maxwell, if I wanted him to 
 break it? " she demanded of herself. But that 
 thought led at last to an outbreak of tears, a 
 weakness rare to Betty. 
 
 She had a curious realisation of herself as too 
 young yet to stand where she stood to-night, not 
 because she valued her innocence as the right of 
 her youth, but because she appraised the loss of 
 it at a value of which she felt she had been de- 
 frauded through pitiful indiscretion. 
 
 The experience had been too quickly quarried 
 
 her satisfaction, her revulsion taken for 
 granted without her leave. 
 
 " Will Hutchinson indeed ! he would pro- 
 tect him from me ! " 
 
 She was at heart a courtesan, but she resented 
 fiercely the suggestion of herself as under the 
 ban of men good and true. 
 
 She had loved Jack disinterestedly she drew 
 herself up with all the consciousness of virtue 
 and this was her reward ! 
 261
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She was not tired of him why was he tired 
 of her? 
 
 There was a knock at her door ; she smothered 
 her tears and waited. Another but she still 
 hesitated. Then she opened it to Hutchinson. 
 
 He looked at her in slow amazement. " Why, 
 little girl, what is it? You've been crying. 
 What's the matter. 
 
 His eyes grew tender his grasp of her hand 
 enfolding, protective. 
 
 i 
 
 After Jack left Betty, he hurried across the 
 campus ; he knew Maxwell's contempt of him as 
 an " unpunctual cuss." He repeated fretfully 
 the first few lines of his task ; then listened, as in 
 other, happier times, for the faint echo of some 
 strain phrased in the poet's own enchanted 
 sphere. But that was not for him now ; he knew 
 it; the only sound that reached him was the ir- 
 revocable: Depart from me: I know you not. 
 
 Maxwell's sole greeting of him when he reached 
 the study was a curt nod, not even mitigated by 
 a raised eye-brow. But Jack was accustomed to 
 such variety of reception that he knew better 
 than to interpret this as a lack of welcome; he 
 saw that Maxwell was writing furiously, with a 
 row of sharp-pointed pencils still to the right of 
 262
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 him ; he looked in his blackest mood. The even- 
 ing was warm, and he was sitting in his shirt 
 sleeves, his collar and tie on the floor beside him. 
 Bowed heavily over his desk, his eyes set sul- 
 lenly in his swarthy face, his hand leaping from 
 line to line as though driven by the violence of 
 his thoughts to the utmost limit of speed, he 
 effected upon Jack's mind an enduring represen- 
 tation of himself as of some mighty master- 
 mechanic, in the act of forging a link in that im- 
 perishable chain which binds a few chosen mor- 
 tals in the immortal line of succession. 
 
 At the extreme end of the long room Max- 
 well's study was the entire front attic of a large 
 house there was placed a chair beside a table 
 with a shaded lamp. Jack understood. The 
 moods of the master were many, and sometimes 
 unfathomable, but he had by this time grasped 
 the general principles which governed them ; he 
 sat down submissive to the command so clearly 
 indicated. Maxwell wished him there that 
 was evident and sufficient. 
 
 He took out his note-book and began again at 
 his poem. He was growing nervous about it ; 
 the time was so short, and duties and engage- 
 ments were harming him from all sides. Here, 
 under the stimulous of Maxwell, clearly at high 
 263
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 creative tension, perhaps he would find the inspi- 
 ration he sought. 
 
 But at the end of an hour he still sat there, 
 with not one finished line transferred to the star- 
 ing page before him. The visionings his insist- 
 ence had evoked had been of such character as 
 he had not anticipated, and could not utilise in a 
 poem destined to greet the ears of the graduating 
 " co-ed " and her proud mother. 
 
 He would have laughed at the suggestion that 
 he was suffering the torments of moral revulsion, 
 schooled as he was to distrust the spiritual im- 
 pulse as the subtlest form of self-deception. His 
 depression was merely due to the fact that he 
 resented his contamination by ari experience 
 which he now considered to have been grossly 
 inartistic. Such was his judgment of his case. 
 He was very hard on Betty; it seemed to him 
 unquestionably due to an appalling lack of deli- 
 cacy in her that their intimacy should have af- 
 fected in him this annoying sense of degradation. 
 He was aware that she had known no such re- 
 vulsion as had weakened him ; even now but 
 what was the use of threshing that all out again ! 
 So far as he was concerned, the affair was at an 
 end the mental " clean-up " he was experi- 
 encing was inevitable and doubtless wholesome;
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 he would speedily regain his footing with a 
 sense of the earth beneath him more sure than 
 before. For now he understood a great many 
 things. Take the question of marriage a 
 man was undoubtedly better able to judge it on 
 its merits after he had realised some of its most 
 compelling phases, than if he entered upon its 
 estate ignorant. There had actually been temp- 
 tation for him to marry Betty, and it was thus, 
 through a moment's emotion, that the unwary, 
 men and women alike, were tricked into the cage, 
 to find it later barred from without against their 
 escape. 
 
 The snap of the match as Maxwell lighted 
 cigarette after cigarette he seemed to devour 
 rather than smoke them was the only sound 
 that set itself against the heavy silence of the 
 room, and as the dense moments passed and mid- 
 night neared, Jack grew helplessly restless. 
 Here was no haven of reason, no calm abode of 
 unimpassioned philosophy ! That unmoved man 
 yonder through what desperate travail of the 
 soul was the life within him seeking immortality ! 
 the boy had tormented consciousness of a 
 tragic quality in the thick air about him; un- 
 knowing, he was heart-sick, ashamed; yet with 
 broken wing he was still seeking to fly, and be- 
 265
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 wildered, he wondered what weight it was that 
 held him fast to earth. 
 
 Oh, this room the heat, the tumult of it ! 
 What black spirits of despair had Maxwell's 
 mood evoked ? he could not stay here ; he must 
 get out, into the free air, where his brain would 
 clear and his pulses grow calm. 
 
 If only he could stop worrying about Hutch ! 
 It was senseless ; Hutch was not at all the sort of 
 man to get entangled with Betty. And yet he 
 went to see her of late as he never used to do, 
 and Betty's ways with a man his face set 
 grimly he must do something. But had Betty 
 no right to honour at his hands? 
 
 Oh, he was too weary of the whole thing to 
 think it out straightly to-night. Presently, 
 when he was further away from the experience, 
 he would know what to do ; he would take care 
 of Hutch all right. 
 
 He must think of something else, and in the 
 effort to do so, he pulled out a letter he had had 
 from Richarda that morning ; it had been in his 
 pocket unopened all day ; he read it now without 
 interest. Yet it was a very tender letter. But 
 it touched him nowhere; Lady seemed to have 
 gone quite out of his life. It occurred to him that 
 she was the type of woman who must be neces- 
 266
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 sarily always on the outside edge of a man's real 
 interests and passions. The men she loved 
 husband, son were fanciful creations of her 
 own thin imaginings. The man who loved her, 
 loved her, probably, in a way of which she had 
 not dimmest perception. It was doubtless well 
 that it was so. Such a woman floated above life, a 
 species of semi-detached angel ; there was unques- 
 tionably a certain allurement to a man in pos- 
 sessing and adjusting to his desires such an 
 ethereal self -illusionist. But it was a thin, blue 
 stream that ran in the veins of a woman like 
 Lady a man called it blood by courtesy. 
 
 It had become a bitter grudge in his heart that 
 she had refused to tell him what he wanted to 
 know what he had a right to know. No prot- 
 estations of her devotion to him availed in the 
 face of that ; he tore her letter into bits. 
 
 He turned to his poem again began repeat- 
 ing doggedly the few halting lines he had writ- 
 ten, as if by force to impel inspiration. But in 
 spite of his determination, a settled conviction 
 of disqualification seized upon him he laid 
 down his pen and stared heavily before him. 
 
 What nonsense ! Logically reasoned, the matter 
 was simplicity itself and called for no retrospec- 
 tive sentimentality. He must learn to be a man 
 267
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in a manly way, and not shrink whenever people 
 looked at him, with a terrified suspicion that 
 they understood that something imperceptible 
 to him revealed a difference in him to them, as 
 plainly as if he were placarded. 
 
 The morning after how long ago that 
 seemed ! he had met Betty crossing the Cam- 
 pus ; he remembered that he had felt suddenly 
 oddly embarrassed and as he saw her drawing 
 steadily nearer, he had wondered nervously 
 whether she would stop and speak she gen- 
 erally did, unless they were late. 
 
 But she skimmed by, with a gaily indifferent 
 greeting; she looked quite as usual. He could 
 not understand that. It seemed to him not nice ; 
 he was disappointed in Betty. To be able to 
 ignore the situation between them so completely 
 to have no apparent consciousness of that iso- 
 lating experience which set them apart from this 
 chattering mob of boys and girls No, he did 
 not like that in Betty. She might have given 
 some sign. 
 
 Later, he told her so. Betty laughed. 
 " Fools all," she purred, and appeased him. 
 
 Betty laughed ? it was small wonder. For 
 she knew well that had she betrayed by so much 
 as the flicker of an eyelash an appreciation of 
 268
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 their new relation, this boy of difficult, fastidious 
 taste would have been severe in judgment of her 
 lack of it. 
 
 Betty began wisely enough. But she was 
 hampered by the inexperience of youth; and as 
 the affair progressed, she displayed at critical 
 moments an unfortunate paucity of resource and 
 grace in developing it. She got desperately 
 tired at times of the demand upon her to invest 
 with poetical glamour an experience which did 
 not seem to her to lend itself easily to poetical 
 significance. Betty's blood was frankly red, 
 and she was glad of it. So was Jack's, and yet 
 he wasted a great deal of intensity in emotions 
 that were of no value to either of them. There 
 were occasions when Betty felt that she had to 
 suffer some things for which she had not bar- 
 gained. 
 
 But Jack, in his hardiest moments of intro- 
 spection, went far beyond any reflections of Bet- 
 ty's. Man was man, and woman, woman; that 
 was all there was to it. Yet each generation in 
 its turn, never seemed able to accept that fact 
 without vast parade of explanatory excuse for 
 the condition. In reference to it, every man 
 lied habitually to every other man, but most to 
 himself. What was society so damnably afraid 
 269
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of, the boy asked, that it chose the immoral bond 
 of marriage for immoral it certainly was in 
 probably nine cases out of ten in preference 
 to the direct method which would leave a self- 
 respecting man and woman free of each other 
 when they no longer loved? 
 
 Loved ? he smiled with contempt for him- 
 self. For that was the supreme lie behind which 
 the whole human show masqueraded. 
 
 Thus far had the boy come in his thinking 
 it had been clay swift to the clever potter's shap- 
 ing. 
 
 " Ah ! " With a mighty sigh Maxwell 
 grasped the floor with his feet, and slowly rose 
 from his chair. He looked like a gigantic shad- 
 ow of himself the black circles under his 
 eyes set them back as in caverns ; he had written 
 himself cold. 
 
 " Hullo youngster ! " he strode over to 
 Jack. " See that? " He held up his hand 
 it was limp, nerveless, yet it seemed at this mo- 
 ment to have a personality of its own more ex- 
 pressive of Maxwell than his face, which looked 
 curiously inert, sodden, as that of a man far 
 gone on the way to drunken stupor. He began 
 to pace the room with tumbling, uncertain steps. 
 
 " Let's go for a walk," suggested Jack. 
 270
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Maxwell stared at him. " Why yes," he said 
 slowly " A walk that's what I want. 
 That's why I wanted you to come up. I didn't 
 want to be alone to-night when I got 
 through." He shivered. 
 
 " What a bundle of nerves you are," said 
 Jack bluntly. 
 
 Maxwell made no reply ; he threw on his coat, 
 and without further word they started, turning 
 towards the bridge, which, once crossed, seemed 
 to set the town far behind them. Before them, 
 the low hills lifted like shadows upon the horizon, 
 yet in this darkness they possessed a quality of 
 weird sentiency which Jack felt as never before: 
 Nature seemed, as mistress of the night, to re- 
 duce the human being to an uncanny insignifi- 
 cance in the scale of creation. 
 
 How little anything mattered in the face of 
 this vast uncomprehended universe, in which the 
 human being knew but a single gasp of exist- 
 ence ! Questions of morality of individual 
 conduct of right or wrong how infinitesi- 
 mally petty it all seemed compared with the stu- 
 pendous workings of that Omnispective Force, 
 across some tiny space of whose boundless design 
 the human insect crawled to extinction, appropri- 
 ating to itself with majestic arrogance the su- 
 271
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 preme place in creation believing itself the 
 cause of a universe. 
 
 Himself and Betty ! there had actually 
 been moments when he had thought that that 
 mattered! He could have laughed aloud, as the 
 stars must laugh, at the great farce of the hu- 
 man struggle towards what men in their blind- 
 ness called righteousness. 
 
 Righteousness ! it was the refuge of the 
 cowards of the race of men who sought to 
 assuage the magnificent hunger and thirst of 
 their natures with the pale blood and attenuated 
 body of ecclesiastical dogmatism. 
 
 The boy trod with sure step; he had a sense 
 of elation good to feel after his days of depres- 
 sion; he had proved, in the doing of the for- 
 bidden thing, that he had a soul above bondage. 
 
 They were climbing the hill now ; far away to 
 the south, the little town lay in a hollow which 
 looked as if scooped just to contain it. So still 
 was it enfolded by the darkness that it seemed 
 as if it had lightly fallen into a sleep from which 
 the day was never again to call it. 
 
 " What are you thinking of, youngster? " 
 asked Maxwell suddenly. 
 
 " Oh, of that sentence I've heard you quote 
 it: God, who sits smiling on a mowntain to 
 272
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 whom our gravest offences are only as the naugh- 
 tiness of puppies playing on the hearth-rug." 
 
 " Damned affectation," said Maxwell calmly. 
 " I've no patience with that type of cant." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know." 
 
 " Well then, you'd better know the sooner 
 the wiser. Just get out and do something 
 naughty, youngster, and see what'll happen. 
 Oh, I don't mean anything from the outside 
 just try it, and you'll everlastingly know what 
 I mean. You'll find yourself with yourself on 
 your hands, and you won't find any comfort for 
 your soul in the ' puppy ' theory, let me tell 
 you." 
 
 " Yes, but you've said yourself " 
 
 " What have I said? " thundered Maxwell. 
 " Anything everything it all fits sometime 
 or other. Sooner or later, anything's true. But 
 puppies playing on a hearth-rug ! that's jack- 
 ass philosophy, my boy unless you're puppy, 
 which, inconveniently just now, maybe, you're 
 not. There are quite apt to be occasions in a 
 man's life when he'd like to belong to a lower 
 order of creation than he does. That's apt to be 
 when the morals of a dog are just about his fit. 
 Remember that. And when you find yourself 
 getting down to imagining yourself a playful 
 273
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 puppy on a hearth-rug " he broke off sud- 
 denly : "Oh, the devil! Don't talk like a 
 three-year old to me, Homfrey. I'm in no mood 
 for it to-night." 
 
 They sat down on a ledge of rock, which, jut- 
 ting abruptly from a grassy bank, made an easy 
 seat for them. In the darkness below, the river 
 murmured past, seeking the waters of the great 
 lake ; they could hear the poplar leaves dance on 
 the whisper of the wind ; the stars swung remote 
 in their appointed spheres ; the sublimity of 
 space, immeasurable, unchangeable, suggested 
 an eternity of peace unstirred while kingdoms 
 rose and fell. Nature breathed only benediction 
 in this summer midnight's calm ; the mighty pas- 
 sions of humanity had no meaning here. 
 
 " In pretty deep with Betty, aren't you, 
 youngster ? " asked Maxwell after a long silence. 
 Jack felt as if an electric shock had passed 
 through him. " Oh, I don't know." 
 
 " Don't think that I'm seeking information. 
 I merely happened to be going along Warner 
 Street a couple of weeks or so ago seems to 
 me it was about two in the morning. You got 
 out of there a little ahead of me, and you were 
 in a darned hurry, I observed, to obscure your 
 appearance at that particular spot. I wasn't 
 274
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in a hurry, and I walked home rather slowly. I 
 found the problem of co-education interesting 
 even at that uninteresting hour. You're in a 
 position where you can make a study of its ef- 
 fects at first-hand. A little later. I shouldn't 
 wonder if your opinion mighn't be quite instruc- 
 tive." 
 
 Maxwell spoke in a tone of the most genial 
 indifference, but Jack understood what he was 
 getting. He made a great effort to pull himself 
 together. " Miss Carter " 
 
 " Miss Carter ! Oh Lord ! don't be a fool to 
 me, Homfrey. You don't have to be. I'm 
 neither inquisitive nor critical when it comes to 
 the question of a man's relations with women. 
 Because that is a matter which is often curiously 
 outside of the man's character as a whole. But 
 with you it's different. You're too young to be 
 in any hurry. The women ! they're ours, my 
 boy the supply is greater than the demand. 
 They'll wait for you. It's too early for you to 
 get into that game it's one that lasts a long 
 time. Betty Carter " but Maxwell pulled 
 himself up short : " By the way, it's settled 
 about Berlin?" 
 
 It was hardly a question 1 there was a dis- 
 tinct accent of authority. 
 275
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " I suppose so." Jack hesitated ; then began 
 tentatively : " You don't know, Professor Max- 
 well" 
 
 " Cut it out," growled Maxwell. He got up 
 heavily, with the effort of an old man ; then shook 
 himself light, and they began the walk back at a 
 swinging pace. But half-way down the hill 
 he paused abruptly. 
 
 " Do you know, boy, what's the only thing in 
 this whole world that a man cares a damned cuss 
 about? Do you know what it is that lies at the 
 base of all his thinking all his doing? " His 
 voice shook; Jack had never imagined Maxwell 
 like this. " Do you know what he's always seek- 
 ing and never finding? Do you know what's 
 his idea of Heaven ? God ? Oh Hell! " The 
 exclamation came low. " My boy, men have 
 never wanted God as they've wanted their mate." 
 He strode on. " The woman made for him 
 it's all a man wants, and it's what he never 
 gets." 
 
 They walked on in silence ; there was no word 
 Jack would have dared utter if he could. He 
 was bewildered. That from Maxwell! What 
 overwhelming tribute to the place in his life of 
 the creature Woman ! 
 
 Something that he had been smothering stirred 
 276
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 once more in Jack's heart, faint and sweet as 
 the morning's first breath in the darkly depart- 
 ing night. 
 
 But it went as swiftly as it came, and left him 
 conscious of a strange pain. 
 
 " Lady ! " the word cried almost aloud upon 
 his lips. For in her stead, as the type of all 
 women, he had set this other ! 
 
 " ' My luve is like a red, red rose,' " hummed 
 Maxwell under his breath. " Do you smell it 
 somewhere ? Ah ! " He breathed deep, in an 
 abandon of enjoyment. " It's the hour when all 
 the flowers are sweetest. There's only one crea- 
 ture bad enough to kill, and that's the human 
 being who doesn't love children, or music, or 
 flowers, lad. Let him be anathema ! 
 
 " Yes," said Jack absently ; he did not hear. 
 
 " ' My love is like a red, red rose,' " whistled 
 Maxwell gaily. The reaction from his exhaust- 
 ing work was at last fully upon him. " Sing, 
 youngster, sing ! " he commanded. 
 
 But Jack was silent. 
 
 277
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Richarda laid down Jack's letter with an air 
 of finality ; then sat and looked resentfully at the 
 outside of the envelope. He was going to Ber- 
 lin, it appeared as Professor Maxwell's pro- 
 tege; a place at Waverley was assured to him 
 upon his return. He acknowledged that he owed 
 all his opportunities in life to her, and though 
 she had done what she had for some reason which 
 he was not to understand, that did not affect the 
 measure of his gratitude to her. 
 
 It was true that at the end of the letter he 
 abandoned his strangely formal tone. Circum- 
 stances made some things hard for him, but 
 when it came to the question of his devotion to 
 Lady : " You, better than any one else, know 
 how easy it is for me to say seriously the thing 
 that means nothing then, Lady it means some- 
 thing, that when I think of you, and all that you 
 have been to me, I can say nothing. It's all too 
 big for me. I can only know and be silent, and 
 trust you to understand." 
 
 That was very sweet, but it did not alter the 
 278
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 fact that the boy had hurt her by becoming man, 
 and that he had served her with notice that here- 
 after his way must be of his own taking. 
 
 This was her reward ! a half-dozen sentences 
 of courteously serious acknowledgment at the 
 end of a letter which seemed designed to indicate 
 the severing of the old relation between them. 
 
 After all, perhaps it was the wise way. Jack's 
 assumption of a man's responsibility for himself 
 was the fitting thing. She had not sought re- 
 lease from the obligation she had taken upon her- 
 self she had been, as it were, honourably dis- 
 charged. She was to be free at last to come 
 down from that pedestal on which she had grown 
 so weary of posing; she was to be rid of the 
 tyranny of that ideal to which she had bent her 
 burdened back, submissive through all these 
 dragging years. 
 
 Certainly, looking at the matter from the 
 practical side, Jack had proved himself worthy 
 of all that she had sought to do for him. The 
 boy promised a great future, and it pleased her 
 to imagine herself, when quite an old lady, up- 
 lifted with the consciousness that but for her he 
 might have remained insignificant. Of late she 
 dwelt more and more in her mind, on the fact 
 that it had been demanded of her to give oppor- 
 279
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 tunity to so brilliant a boy ; she did not perceive 
 how subtly she was thus eliminating Homfrey 
 from all connection with him that she was 
 definitely seeking to efface from her memory all 
 thought of him as Jack's father. 
 
 As matters stood, that was perhaps inevitable. 
 She had suffered cruelly for her ideals, but they 
 had served their high purpose. It was not 
 strange that after reading Jack's letter she 
 should feel as if she had turned a corner in her 
 life ; it had been a long, dark lane through which 
 she had come, but the open highway to happiness 
 was at last straight before her. 
 
 And Homfrey would never know ! yet she 
 had spent hours imagining scenes in which he 
 should make accidental discovery of the facts in 
 Jack's case, to be followed by passionate declara- 
 tions of his admiration and affection for the wife 
 whom he had so cruelly misunderstood. These 
 scenes acted beautifully in her imagination ; she 
 had special seasons of such obsession, when she 
 unconsciously assumed the airs and poses of a 
 stage heroine under high dramatic pressure. But 
 the next day, her mood was apt to be corre- 
 spondingly depressed; yet she did not, even in 
 her sanest moment, begrudge her imagination 
 these flights; she had a tender pity for the 
 woman who suffered in unyielding silence. 
 280
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 But that was all over now. Another life had 
 begun for her, embittered by no regrets for the 
 past, for she could not have done otherwise than 
 she had; time had amply justified the attitude 
 she had taken towards an appalling experience. 
 But she had been starved for happiness the 
 happiness she had known for two wonderful 
 years. And now it was to be hers again, for 
 the question at issue between herself and Hom- 
 frey had lapsed, as though exhausted by its own 
 weight. There had been no ultimate compro- 
 mise there had been no need of that. 
 
 Jack himself had freed her; she breathed 
 deeply ; it was so good to feel like this ! 
 
 But Jack did he think she would forget, 
 because he was no longer near, and dependent 
 upon her ? Ah ! the burden of him had been 
 dear to her. She thought about that until she 
 grew strangely troubled. Was her life hence- 
 forth to be on a lower plane, because it was to 
 know no more that hidden exaltation of spirit 
 which had been such mighty compensation for 
 suffering ? 
 
 That was the thought uppermost in her mind 
 when she wrote to Jack a letter so perversely 
 sweet and strangely contradictory that he did not 
 understand it ; it only added to his hu-rt. 
 281
 
 It was not long before Homf rey became aware 
 that there was some curious change in his wife; 
 it amused him to think how useless it would be 
 to attempt to understand the nature or cause of 
 it. After the first shock of his early disillusion- 
 ment as to the character of her devotion to him, 
 he had schooled himself to accept her as a woman 
 of high and difficult ideals, entitled to the same 
 liberty of action that he demanded for himself. 
 But, as he had once said to Dawson : " That's 
 a damned uncomfortable theory for a married 
 man." 
 
 Dawson had promptly agreed. " It's a fact, 
 Tim, that a man blunders into matrimony with a 
 lot of fool theories that are only fit to pose for a 
 bridal picture in. Nature sees to it that he starts 
 in with a bogus outfit of ideals calculated to de- 
 ceive the very elect. He doesn't understand then, 
 that it doesn't eternally matter how many ideals 
 he and his wife start out with, but that it does 
 eternally matter how many they have on hand 
 when the time comes to shut up shop. If they 
 have any, after they have fought out a life- 
 time together well, haloes and harps for two, 
 please, and kindly step this way." 
 
 But behind all his subterfuges, Homfrcy un- 
 derstood very well that he had married with the
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 same emotions uppermost with which every man 
 marries ; otherwise, he would not have married. 
 It had interested him to begin with the avowed 
 intention of treating his marriage as a fascinat- 
 ing experiment, and he had had no doubt as to 
 his ability to maintain the double role of partici- 
 pant and spectator. But he had only lately be- 
 gun to suspect that this was due in greater 
 measure to Richarda than he could at one time 
 have appreciated, and that it was owing possibly 
 to the potent presence in her of certain qualities 
 that charmed even while they irritated him. 
 
 As Dawson had long ago said she had kept 
 him guessing. In her remotest moods there was 
 a grace and distinction of caprice which ap- 
 pealed more powerfully to a man of his critical 
 habit of mind, than did her sweetest moments of 
 surrender. In her daily life, she was, moreover, 
 devoid of that pettiness of insignificant ill-tem- 
 per with which many admirable women harry 
 their households, a domestic condition which 
 would have been more impossible of endurance 
 to Homfrey than flagrant sin. She had taken her 
 stand against her husband on one great issue, and 
 in that superlatively audacious act of the setting 
 of her will contrary to his, she seemed to have 
 submerged those curious puerilities of feminine 
 283
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 thought and deed, which vex and ultimately 
 alienate the heart of man. Homfrey never saw 
 her among other women without a sense of pride 
 in his own good taste ; it was high tribute from 
 such a man. 
 
 It was true that at times her many perfections 
 were a cause of irritation to him, but that was 
 inevitable so long as she failed to make the great 
 surrender, which until lately, his attitude towards 
 her had never ceased silently to demand, yet 
 which, the contrary nature of man being what it 
 is, he nevertheless would have felt it now a der- 
 ogation of her dignity as his wife were she to 
 offer it. 
 
 Her point of view remained as obscure to him 
 as on the night when she had first told him that 
 she meant to keep little Jack. Had she been the 
 type of woman, who, devoid of humour, con- 
 ceives herself called to the elimination of all the 
 sorrows of mankind, he could have understood. 
 But in all these years, she had made no revela- 
 tion of herself as of such sort; on the contrary, 
 she was a person of quite pagan indifference to 
 those large questions of the human lot which 
 are settled on the public platform with such ease 
 of conviction and such generous appropriation 
 of this man's poverty, and that one's riches. 
 284.
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She had never shown any disposition to play the 
 part of philanthropic dilettante; she gave 
 vaguely to a great many charities in order to 
 escape importunity; so, at least she would have 
 said. She went to church because she had been 
 brought up to do so, but she made no contact 
 between its doctrines and her daily walk and con- 
 versation. The church was one of the fixed or- 
 naments of society; it did not occur to her to 
 identify its " dim, religious light " with the 
 clear and quenchless flame of the conscience 
 which lighted the way of her soul. Homfrey 
 had often thought when watching her, that she 
 lived the life of the disciple without the suste- 
 nance of knowing it; it was the price she paid 
 for a heavenly unconsciousness of her own grace 
 in common living. 
 
 Sometimes, there came back upon her, accom- 
 panied by a sense of anguish yet undulled, the 
 singing and the prayers of those Salvation Army 
 people on the dock so long ago. What had they 
 which she had not? But to that question, as to 
 so many others, she got no satisfactory answer. 
 
 She was curiously tolerant of the opinion of 
 others ; to Homfrey that was one of the most 
 puzzling manifestations of her general complex- 
 ity. One did not expect from a woman, however 
 285
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 tutored, such sanity of judgment, such breadth 
 of comprehension, such blessed indifference to de- 
 batable standards of conduct, as she displayed. 
 
 Naturally, she seemed the type of woman to 
 have cast herself with violence upon altruistic en- 
 terprise, and to have worn herself out in its ser- 
 vice. But no ! she had apparently exhausted 
 all her impulses in the direction of " doing 
 good," upon that boy. 
 
 And there Homfrey was right that was 
 precisely what she had done. Through her love 
 for him she had been forced to the highest ex- 
 pression of devotion to him possible to her, in 
 one definite act of self-assertion ; and day after 
 day, through long years, she had had to main- 
 tain herself unmoved upon that sacrificial alti- 
 tude. But the effort had left her without energy 
 for interest in those large problems of human 
 destiny which to many good women transcend 
 the more limited and less fascinating ones under 
 their own roofs. 
 
 Dear Charda ! he had long ago resigned 
 all hope of understanding her, but this recent, 
 bewildering change in her piqued his curiosity 
 anew it was as if a bud, long sheathed against 
 the storm, had broken wide into fragrant bloom 
 at some soft touch of the sun. 
 286
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Come here, Charda," said Homfrey. " I 
 want you." 
 
 He caught her as she passed with a saucy in- 
 tention of eluding him, and drew her down on 
 the broad arm of his chair; she blushed deli- 
 ciously. 
 
 " I want to know now, this moment why 
 you're such a wilful puzzle of a women." 
 
 "But I'm not," she protested. "I can't 
 imagine why you will think I am. I'm sim- 
 ple to the point of stupidity. I think that must 
 be the trouble. You're not dull enough to ap- 
 preciate me, dear." 
 
 Suppose now, once more, after all the silence 
 of these years, he asked her to explain ! the 
 impulse conquered his proud reserve. 
 
 " Charda, tell me how could you keep that 
 boy Jack here against my wish? I want to 
 know. I have never been able to understand 
 that." 
 
 She was so close to him he felt the shock 
 that went through her he saw the hand in her 
 lap tighten. 
 
 " Dear " he argued, entreating " we're 
 
 so happy these days. But sometimes, I feel that 
 
 that still stands between us. Don't let it. We're 
 
 not afraid of each other about anything. We 
 
 287
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 can afford to be perfectly frank. My darl- 
 ing " it was long since she had seen him so 
 disturbed " you would make me a very happy 
 man if you would say what would explain that 
 to me. It would be the beginning of a new life 
 for us both, for you know, that has always been 
 between us rankling in your heart and in 
 mine. You must tell me, Charda." 
 
 " But things like that are so hard to explain, 
 Tim." She looked at him steadily ; her eyes were 
 full of trouble. " Wait a moment." She slipped 
 off his chair, and went over to the little table 
 where her work lay ; she adjusted the light care- 
 fully ; then she sat down and took up her em- 
 broidery. " You're such a critical man, Tim. 
 Did you never think how hard you make it for 
 a woman to be as unreasonable as it is her nature 
 to be ? You insist that her frivolities shall be in- 
 telligent you " 
 
 " Frivolities ? would you call this a ques- 
 tion of frivolity? " 
 
 She looked at him. " Of course my form 
 of it. No woman exists who hasn't her own little 
 way of being frivolous. This was mine. But I 
 amused myself by taking my visions seriously." 
 
 " Your visions ? " 
 
 " Yes. You know there's a story in the Bible 
 288
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 about Saul and what he saw on the road to Da- 
 mascus, wasn't it? Well, it was something like 
 that with me." She laughed uncertainly. " I 
 saw something on the road to Damascus too. It 
 was all very silly, I daresay far too silly to 
 talk to you about but you know, Saul believed 
 in his vision, and I believed in mine." Her voice 
 quivered. " And there's such a lot of stubborn- 
 ness in me, Tim. I think I would have died 
 rather than give that child up after I once 
 knew that no one wanted him not even his 
 mother." 
 
 " I see." Homfrey smoked for a while in si- 
 lence ; then he said : " Charda, did you never 
 think that if you were not just the kind of 
 woman that you are that perhaps you might 
 have driven a man to think " 
 
 She turned to him with such an expression in 
 her eyes that he was forced to silence. " I knew 
 the kind of woman that I was," she said proudly ; 
 her face flamed. 
 
 "Then you did think I might think" he 
 could not let that question go unasked. 
 
 For a moment she sat quite still, without 
 answering him ; then she broke into helpless 
 tears. 
 
 He could not bear that her tears were so 
 289
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 rare. He took her in his arms, and comforted 
 her as he would have comforted a child. 
 
 " Poor silly, little girl," he said tenderly ; 
 when she was at last quiet, he added as if in con- 
 tinuation of that exclamation : " You're the real 
 martyr stuff, child. You'd die for any old cause, 
 so long as you could have the wretched joy of 
 dying for it." 
 
 " I suppose so," she said unsteadily. 
 
 She picked up her work, and began at it list- 
 lessly, and he watched her, still wondering. 
 
 But her own explanation of herself was the 
 only possible one she was of the temperament 
 which travels the road to Damascus. 
 
 " Poor child ! " he said softly. 
 
 After that there was another long silence until 
 Richarda spoke. 
 
 " I had a letter from Hattie this morning. She 
 writes like a woman possessed. You see, she has 
 a baby." 
 
 " A baby ? Mrs. Lewin ?" Homf rey whis- 
 tled. 
 
 " Yes really." Richarda got up, in search 
 of the letter. " I want to read it again. It was 
 awfully funny." 
 
 " Read it to me." 
 
 "Oh, I can't. You'd laugh too fearfully. 
 I'll see what bits I can let you have." 
 290
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Presently she read aloud : My dear, why didn't 
 you tell me long ago what a lovely thing it is 
 to have a baby? I never knew. You see it 
 happened like this. Do what I would, I couldn't 
 put into Tommy Lewin the spirit I wanted to 
 see in him. I saw I had to do something des- 
 perate to get him out of the slough of despond 
 he had got into. 
 
 But this was as far as Richarda read aloud; 
 after that, Homfrey got only a stray sentence 
 here and there. 
 
 Tommy Lewin is a very bright man, but that 
 wasn't going to do us any good unless he meant 
 to brace up and hit the line for all that was in 
 him. I thought and thought, and one day it 
 came to me like a flash from heaven, that there 
 was just one thing that might help poor Tommy. 
 I felt like an archangel, and yet I didn't see how 
 on earth we were going to afford it. However I 
 made up my mind that if we were going to the 
 workhouse anyway, we might as well take a baby 
 there too, and' so I let that anxiety go. 
 
 But, my dear, bye and bye I didn't know how 
 to tell Tommy. And I was so happy, and I 
 thought if he wasn't happy too well, the end 
 of that was that I got so frightened that one day 
 I just said, bang out: 
 
 291
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Tommy, we're going to have a baby, and if 
 you don't like it " and then I cried like a fool. 
 
 Men are strange things, Charda. I don't 
 think Tommy had ever given a serious thought 
 in his life to the possibility of his having a baby. 
 It was so funny. But hasn't he been a dear to 
 me! I've found out all sorts of things about 
 Tommy that I never knew before. 
 
 Well, if I'd been happy before, I don't know 
 what I was after that / felt like singing in 
 the street. I was working hard too t all the time 
 had to and I had to keep pretending to 
 Tommy that I wasn't. 
 
 Well, that baby's here. Of course, I'd made 
 up my mind that I wasn't going to do anything 
 weak-minded or silly. The whole thing was to 
 go through according to schedule. But it didn't. 
 They thought I was going to die, and the worst 
 of it was, I thought so too. That was what 
 made me say to Tommy when he came in look- 
 ing as if it was my last moment you see, it's 
 natural to me to keep a sharp eye on his business 
 affairs : 
 
 " Mind you, don't sign that contract, Tommy, 
 
 until I'm well enough to go over it with you." 
 
 Tommy rushed out of the room, but the moment 
 
 I heard myself say that, I knew all the fight in 
 
 292
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 me had come to the top. I wasn't going to die, 
 and I didn't. 
 
 But that baby! Char da, why didn't you 
 tell me? Why, my dear, a baby is a necessity. 
 Since she came, I feel as if I had been born over 
 again, and born right and fit to live. And as 
 for Tommy but Tommy never was anything 
 but the "very best. Only I didn't understand. 
 
 Richarda read the last few sentences aloud ; 
 her face was sweet with the sympathy of the 
 woman who knows. 
 
 But Homfrey was perverse. " I wish that 
 baby had been twins," he remarked drily. 
 
 " But so does she," retorted Richarda. " She 
 says it's her one regret." 
 
 293
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Maxwell threw open his study door and tossed 
 the book he had been carrying towards a table 
 which happened providentially to receive it. 
 
 " Good heavens ! I'm thankful to-morrow 
 ends the grind for me, youngster," he ej aculated, 
 as he banged himself into a chair; Jack silently 
 took another, and they began automatically to 
 smoke. 
 
 " Have you heard Farley's latest ? " asked 
 Maxwell lazily, after they had entertained each 
 other for a long time without a word. 
 
 " Never heard of Farley. Who's he ? " 
 
 " Really. I'd better let Farley know that," 
 said Maxwell gibing. " Well, he's the fellow who 
 will one day be dean of the engineering depart- 
 ment in this university, let me tell you. And 
 the Dean told me this morning that Farley had 
 said to Mrs. Hart in a burst of confidence that he 
 hoped the day was coming when the department 
 of philosophy would be abolished in Waverley 
 what had philosophy to do in fitting a man to 
 earn his bread and butter? What do you think 
 294
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of that? " Maxwell shouted with laughter. " But 
 I have lots of respect for Farley, though I ad- 
 mit that he's a fine example of the kind of grad- 
 uate this university is getting into the habit of 
 turning out. The Dean said some pretty good 
 things about the swamping of culture in the col- 
 leges owing to the growth of the technological 
 idea. But in this government of the hoodlum 
 by the hoodlum and for the hoodlum " 
 
 It was Jack's turn to laugh; Maxwell glow- 
 ered at him ; then he smiled. " Naturally, in a 
 democracy, the preponderant boor gets the up- 
 per hand, but what does it matter, after all ? 
 good government or bad it's all the same in 
 the end. As it was in the beginning, is now, and 
 ever shall be. Men come and go they bless or 
 curse their generation " he shrugged his shoul- 
 ders " I, you, and the boor we come to- 
 gether out of the darkness ; to-morrow we return 
 to it. It is one." 
 
 Jack was silent. 
 
 " What's making you so ruminative to- 
 night ? " asked Maxwell presently. 
 
 " I didn't know I was," said Jack lamely. 
 
 Maxwell muttered something and got up ; he 
 was clearly nervous and over-tired. He went to 
 the piano and struck a few chords; then he 
 295
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 swept his fingers over the key-board with the 
 easy touch of the adept, and in the next moment, 
 began to sing. 
 
 Jack turned in his chair amazed. He had 
 never realised that Maxwell might be a trained 
 musician he had never heard him strike a 
 note ; he had never thought of him as possessed 
 of any of the ornamental arts. 
 
 And now this singing how could a man 
 keep still with such a voice in his throat ? 
 there had been little hint of this in the snatches 
 of song Maxwell was apt to indulge in, at odd 
 and inappropriate moments. 
 
 Und das hat mit ihrem Singen 
 Die Lorelei gethan! 
 
 Gethan Gethan! the word rose and fell 
 with the weird persistence of a death-knell toll- 
 ing of closed eyes, mute lips, folded hands, un- 
 hasting feet. 
 
 " Gee ! " The boy just breathed the word. 
 
 " Didn't know I could sing like that ! " Max- 
 well glanced carelessly at Jack. " Youngster, 
 you're too sensitive to impressions. Your tem- 
 perament is set on the bias, and it's going to give 
 you a hell of a time if you don't look out." 
 296
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " But when you sing like that why have 
 you never " 
 
 Maxwell made a gesture of impatience. " I 
 can do a dozen things like that, that you know 
 nothing of," he said almost contemptuously. " I 
 was born a gentleman, thank God ! damn your 
 democracy ! and trained like one, thank God ! 
 and I was early indoctrinated into the faith 
 that it is more important to be elegant than to 
 be useful that's why I'm so tolerant of Far- 
 ley he's a necessary balance in the scheme of 
 things; you can't have elegance at one end of 
 the scale without utility at the other." 
 
 " But the song I never heard that setting 
 before." 
 
 " Probably not." A curious change passed 
 over Maxwell's face ; his eyes grew tenacious as 
 of some object they had gripped far back in 
 his memory. " And you probably never will 
 again. For the man who wrote that music has 
 been dust " his tongue lisped the word as 
 if tenderly " this many a year. That man 
 was my best friend, and the woman for whom 
 he wrote the song the woman who sang it " 
 he paused; for the moment he had forgotten 
 Jack that was the advantage in choosing a 
 boy for a friend he was a negligible condi- 
 tion at will. 
 
 297
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Then he glanced up. " She was called Mar- 
 garet that woman." 
 
 Margaret! Jack could not look at Max- 
 well; he knew suddenly that he stood within the 
 precincts of a man's soul. 
 
 " Margaret," repeated Maxwell. " There 
 was another song she used to sing she used 
 to sing it when he sat there, listening. Lad 
 he turned with sudden fierceness upon Jack 
 " no one loves and no one hates as a Scotsman 
 loves and hates. There is no sentimental mor- 
 bidity about his passion that is for your soft- 
 boned Latin the Scotsman loves as God meant 
 men to love. And the songs of Scotland there 
 are none so lovely must be sung by a Scots- 
 woman if you would understand them. You've 
 never heard that what I mean you don't 
 know." He was silent a moment ; then he added : 
 " Passion Puritan passion there is nothing 
 like it nothing so terrible, so cruel." And 
 under his breath he murmured rather than sang : 
 
 I daurna think o' Jamie, 
 For that wad be a sin. 
 
 " Ay, and I heard her sing that when that 
 may God ! " with a great effort he held 
 himself silent, breathing deep, his left hand 
 298
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 clenching and unclenching, his right gripping 
 the arm of his chair a hand of unconscious 
 steel. 
 
 Then, with his most characteristic gesture, he 
 shook himself free of his memories ; he gave a 
 careless laugh as he lighted another cigarette. 
 " This is what comes of singing The Lorelei. 
 Yes, I knew the poor devil who wrote it. He 
 wrecked himself over another man's wife ran 
 off with her and died of fever in Rome before 
 they had been together ten days." 
 
 An abyss seemed to have opened at Jack's 
 feet ; he was not deceived by Maxwell's pose. A 
 question throbbed in his throat; he must ask it. 
 
 "The other fellow what did he do?" 
 
 " The other fellow ? " Maxwell smiled and 
 spread his fingers wide he was the cynic 
 again, the man who laughs longest because he 
 weeps most he looked undauntedly at Jack. 
 He was enjoying himself now the moment of 
 bitterness was past once again, and this time 
 not in that horror of loneliness in which he had 
 hitherto suffered it. Once again he was spec- 
 tator of a tormented soul his own felt tol- 
 erance touched with contempt for that frailty of 
 man, which seeking to adore, set up a golden 
 calf to worship. 
 
 299
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 "The other fellow?" he repeated. "/ was 
 the other fellow, youngster. Great experience, 
 that!" 
 
 Involuntarily Jack's eyes flashed to the book- 
 case beside him. High up he could see it, that 
 volume of Unphilosophical Essays by Douglas 
 Maxwell he remembered the dedication on the 
 fly-leaf; he could see still the signature: Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 " Women are hell," added Maxwell calmly. 
 " Never forget that, Lad. How can they be 
 anything else, their relation to men being what 
 it is? We forget that, and demand the impos- 
 sible of them, and then " 
 
 " But " interrupted Jack ; then he hesi- 
 tated ; then rushed on. " Your mother " 
 
 " My mother? " Maxwell drew himself up 
 the pride of family showed in every line of 
 his figure. 
 
 At another time, Jack might have smiled, for 
 never had Maxwell been more ordinarily human. 
 His mother ! she was a creation apart. 
 
 But there was no smile in Jack's eyes ; those 
 simple words, my mother, were full of ironical 
 suggestion for him. His mother would he 
 ever know who she was ? what blood was in 
 his veins? 
 
 300
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " We are talking about the Dean, weren't 
 we? " said Maxwell smoothly. " You see he was 
 really after me this morning because someone 
 had told him strictly in the interests of mor- 
 ality that I had been smoking during some 
 examinations. I had. I was bored. Two men 
 and a woman taking their exam, for doctor's 
 degree an old maid and two grinds. Tobacco 
 smoke couldn't hurt them, and it was the saving 
 of me. I took the Dean up by both horns and 
 left him grinning. He has a valuable sense of 
 humour, and such an impersonal way of dealing 
 with people that he keeps a nominal peace be- 
 tween the warring factions in this institution 
 that's well worth his salary." 
 
 " Did you ever see him without his smile? " 
 asked Jack. 
 
 " No. And neither did his Maker. For his 
 smile was created first, and all the rest attached 
 to it. By the way, youngster, there's some 
 thing I want to say to you to-night. You'll be 
 on your way to Berlin before we know it, and 
 I may never have another opportunity. Or per- 
 haps, never again the but that doesn't mat- 
 ter. It would be found written." 
 
 Jack stared at him ; a slight look of impa- 
 tience showed in Maxwell's face. 
 301
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " It's nothing nothing, Lad. Just that 
 my literary effects are left to you along with 
 some other trifles. When I have been dead ten 
 years, you will publish my diary. You will edit 
 it. You will understand some things then that 
 are unintelligible to you now." 
 
 " I / am to do that?" 
 
 ^ 
 
 Maxwell's hand slightly lifted. 
 
 " Ay, ay, Lad. I know what I'm about. To- 
 night my thoughts are concerned with death 
 the great Destroyer. Some day you will read 
 in the book what I shall write when you are gone 
 presently. I've had a letter to-day that blanched 
 for a little the good, red blood in my veins. It 
 came from my f ather-after-the-spirit the 
 great master of Balliol. When I first knew him, 
 he was just my age he was full of the splen- 
 dour of life certain of achievement. To-day, 
 that is all past, and he faces " there was a 
 pause ; then Maxwell rose as if he were of the 
 weight of stone ; he crossed the room, and threw 
 open the door ; Jack understood ; without a word, 
 without so much as a look at his own great mas- 
 ter, he went out. 
 
 But as he walked down the stairs, he heard 
 Maxwell's voice break defiantly into the tragic 
 memory of the song: 
 
 302
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 I daurna think o' Jamie, 
 For that wad be a sin! 
 
 The boy plunged, as if pursued, into the dark- 
 ness of a moonless summer night, and wandered 
 aimlessly about the campus, feeling too uncer- 
 tain of everything to be able to think definitely 
 about anything. Yet there persisted a sense 
 that he must re-state his conceptions of himself 
 according to the value Maxwell clearly set upon 
 him. That he should be chosen for such a task ! 
 he wondered dizzily whether he had heard 
 Maxwell aright! 
 
 But he had there was no use doubting that 
 like a fool. That was what Maxwell thought 
 him worth! 
 
 He began to walk at a fevered pace with no 
 consciousness of motion ; his thoughts took 
 flight on the wings of dreams. Ten years from 
 now he would be 
 
 What would he be ? The sudden turn of 
 the sentence brought him up short. 
 
 He had reached the south-east corner of the 
 campus, and stood looking down the street which 
 his steps had so often sought. It was late, but 
 the light glowed invitingly in the familiar win- 
 dow. 
 
 303
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 With a sharp exclamation he turned and re- 
 traced his way. He was done with all that 
 done with it. And he did not mean to think any 
 more of the matter. Why should he? He was 
 fortunate, of course, for had it not been for 
 Betty's ambition and coolness of head, he might 
 have found himself involved in an affair not 
 easily sloughed off. 
 
 It had been an ugly experience, but it was one 
 inevitable, sooner or later, to a man of tempera- 
 ment. And he had learnt much from it he 
 felt himself far removed from the boy of eight 
 or ten weeks ago. 
 
 He straightened his shoulders, and began to 
 walk fast again, breathing deep ; the good night 
 air was clean and full of inspiration. It was 
 long since he had felt like this ; he stood still for 
 a moment and listened, as to the incoming of the 
 tide upon the shore. And for him at last it was 
 coming in he knew it. The first line of his 
 poem leapt to his lips he felt himself lifted 
 free of the body which had weighted him these 
 many weeks ; there was no need now to entreat 
 for inspiration which refused itself to him his 
 soul was borne high upon it, as upon a golden 
 flood. 
 
 Never again was he to know such pure pas- 
 304
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 sion of the imagination obsessed of its powers as 
 he experienced in the hour that followed. 
 
 He closed his note-book at last, and sat quite 
 still, alone on the deserted campus ; it was a 
 long time before he realised with strange de- 
 tached appreciation of it that he was Jack 
 Homfrey and that it was time for him to go 
 home to bed ; he was tired. 
 
 / daurna think o' Jamie, 
 For that wad be a sin I 
 
 he sat up straight. 
 
 That was what accounted for Maxwell that 
 was the explanation of the man's bitterness 
 against all women. 
 
 It was a cruel story ; his heart grew sore for 
 his master, as he slowly remembered it slowly, 
 because the earlier part of the night seemed 
 ages away from him. He tried to imagine Max- 
 well as he must have been in that " first year." 
 But he could not. 
 
 " A man never wants God as he wants his 
 mate." There was a terrible significance in the 
 words as he understood them now ; they were a 
 revelation of the meaning of human passion such 
 as the boy had never dreamed of. 
 
 In Douglas Maxwell's life the woman had oc- 
 305
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 cupied the supreme place she did so still. And 
 something in the thought of that shook Jack 
 strangely. 
 
 He began to think again confusedly of the 
 value Maxwell placed upon him of the charge 
 that was to be committed to him. But he was 
 worthy of it ! no one need tell him to-night 
 that he came of insignificant blood. The best of 
 some of the best had gone to his making he 
 was sure of it. He pulled out his note-book, and 
 under the flickering gas-lamp read again what 
 he had written, with a determined effort towards 
 an impersonal impression of it; he would read 
 it like a critic. 
 
 He put the book back in his pocket with a 
 breath that was almost a sob. Well might Max- 
 well have faith in him; the big professor had 
 all a poet's endowment, and had realised that 
 only a poet could estimate a poet. But twenty 
 years from now thirty would Maxwell's 
 memory be assured beyond his day and genera- 
 tion because his name was linked with that of the 
 man who had been his student? 
 
 The boy's blood galloped in his veins ; this was 
 
 audacity beyond anything that his maddest 
 
 dreams had conjured. But the wings of his 
 
 imagination had been tipped with flame to-night ; 
 
 306
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 he had faced the sun unafraid. With the pre- 
 science of genius he foresaw the destiny that 
 awaited him, and with the impatience of youth 
 he longed to fare forth to grasp it. 
 
 He looked down at himself with sudden curi- 
 osity ; at his hands, at his feet. What flesh and 
 blood was this, so superbly differentiated from 
 that of its fellows? 
 
 And there, in that high moment of self-ap- 
 preciation, he fell from immeasurable heights in- 
 to unfathomable depths. 
 
 Why did a forgotten sentence of Maxwell's 
 never recalled since he had listened to it with 
 easy assent in the class-room, recur to him, un- 
 bidden, at this time of all others? The trag- 
 edy of human existence is in the gulf forever 
 fixed between what a man is, and what he would 
 be. 
 
 Jack saw himself as he had been for those 
 few, short weeks scene after scene rose scorch- 
 ing in his memory. 
 
 The shame of it the hideous commonness ! 
 he sank upon the bench and covered his face 
 with his hands. " Oh God ! " he moaned, " what 
 is it that made me that ?" The thought of Lady 
 stabbed him what would she think if she 
 knew? What did such women think of the men 
 307
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 who betrayed their devotion and their faith? 
 
 He had learnt to jeer at law and order in 
 life, but in a flash of that insight belonging to 
 years yet far beyond him, he saw it sweet and 
 wholesome only as it obeyed those mandates 
 which he had flouted as arbitrary and beneath 
 the dignity of man as free agent. They were 
 not altogether good, but man had not thus far 
 discovered better. 
 
 Marriage, a home, a little child looking into 
 its father's face what was there to set as a 
 match for these in the realm of unlawful desire, 
 of squandered passion, of brutalising lust? 
 
 The boy could have sobbed out his hurt aloud. 
 
 He looked down at himself again with horror 
 disgust. Who was he anyway ? It seemed 
 that he belonged nowhere. Whoever his father 
 and mother might have been, they had had no 
 place for him in their lives. There could be 
 only one reason for that, and what bitterness lay 
 in it for him! But he was in no position to 
 criticise them. 
 
 How Maxwell would sneer if he knew all the 
 history of the past weeks ! Maxwell, who had 
 said to him : " Be a gentleman, youngster, even 
 when you're a beast. It always pays and it can 
 be done." 
 
 308
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 The university clock struck two as he got up 
 from the bench; he had never felt so lonely in 
 his life ; he was conscious of a feeling of moral 
 disaster against which he was not strong enough 
 to stand. The great achievement of his poem 
 was operating as a background against which 
 he set his life and its deeds in glaring contrast. 
 
 Involuntarily, his thoughts turned to Hutch- 
 inson ; there was no tonic for his moods of de- 
 spair like " old Hutch ;" he must find him and 
 stay his soul against his strength. 
 
 Though the most genial of mortals there was 
 a definite exclusiveness about Hutchinson inevi- 
 table to an individuality conscious of being suf- 
 ficient unto itself. His personal dignity was 
 well nigh a concrete substance to him; it in- 
 hered so naturally in the men of his family who 
 for generations had been the backbone of a state, 
 that it was evident in them when they were barely 
 able to toddle ; they bumped their heads and suf- 
 fered their hurts with the pride of reserve. 
 
 Yet there was a nai've simplicity about Hutch- 
 inson that endeared him to his fellows ; he was 
 so unaffected, so sincere, so tender of the fail- 
 ings of others. He looked at " Hefty," and 
 saw him full of faults which in Hutchinson 
 blood he would have deemed almost criminal. But 
 309
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Hefty Hefty was a creature of genius, the 
 natural prey of erratic impulses ; his indiscre- 
 tions undoubtedly a source of ultimate wisdom 
 not to be apprehended by the ordinarily prudent. 
 Hutchinson had a profound admiration for 
 Hefty, who could stir his slow blood as few 
 might though at times he felt as if he were 
 tied to the tail of a comet and whirled through 
 strange spaces well, he was not apt in his 
 life to have too much of such experience. 
 
 He was not surprised when Jack burst in 
 upon him to-night that had happened before, 
 much later than this. He was busy writing, but 
 he looked up with the slow, sweet smile his mother 
 loved. 
 
 " All right, old chap," he said, and went on 
 writing. Jack's moods, and he knew them bet- 
 ter than anyone, were many he would wait 
 to discover what had brought him here to-night. 
 
 But the silence was so long that he looked up 
 at last, puzzled. Silence was not characteristic 
 of Jack in any mood. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Jack sprang up. " My poem's done, Bill. I 
 want you to listen." 
 
 "Done!" ejaculated Hutchinson; he threw 
 himself back in his easy chair and lighted his 
 310
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 pipe ; this was a time for poised reflection, 
 though he had never rated himself as a critic of 
 any production of Hefty's. Poetry was a 
 strange thing for a man to wish to make in 
 the moments when he was most completely under 
 Hefty's influence, he hid carefully a sneaking 
 feeling that it was, after all, a species of femi- 
 nine fancy work which had no real relation to 
 the raiment of every-day wear. And yet there 
 was McGillivray where could you find a more 
 level-headed chap than McGillivray ? always 
 spouting Robbie Burns Robbie Burns daft, 
 in fact. 
 
 Well, with one man it was automobiles, and 
 with another, poetry. So be it ! 
 
 But this was different a poem like this had 
 an excuse for being. The time when a man 
 graduated from college was one to be remem- 
 bered ever after with a mixed array of emotions 
 the occasion lent itself naturally to a cer- 
 tain glorification of sentiment, which poetry no 
 doubt was best qualified to express. 
 
 Hefty would do the trick in great shape 
 Hutchinson had always been confident of that, 
 even when he had been assured with violence that 
 this year there would be no class poem that 
 the man chosen to write it could not get beyond 
 the first line. 
 
 311
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Hutchinson smiled ; look at Hefty now ! he 
 was fit to be in a frame. Of course he could 
 write poems. 
 
 And then Jack began ; his voice was like music 
 Hutchinson had never heard just the note 
 that was in it to-night. He listened with a feel- 
 ing of bewilderment that grew as the vibrant 
 syllables rose and fell. What was this ? po- 
 etry ? 
 
 No ; it was the ache in a man's strong heart, 
 there, moaning in your ears it was the pas- 
 sion of young love aflame upon lips of joy 
 it was light, it was darkness it was the sun 
 upon snow-swept heights it was a child cry- 
 ing afraid in the dark, a woman singing low 
 lullaby to the babe at her breast. It was the 
 splendour of the sun in the west the mystery 
 of a daisy in the grass the whisper No ! 
 it was none of these. It was 
 
 Jack threw down his note-book. " Well, good 
 or bad, there it is," he said with strained indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 But for a moment Hutchinson said nothing; 
 his strong, steady face looked curiously inflex- 
 ible. 
 
 Then he stood up slowly, and sighed. " It's 
 quite a piece, Hefty," he remarked, and sat down 
 again.
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Jack burst out laughing. " Oh, you dear 
 old man ! " He fell upon Hutchinson, and 
 pommelled him. " Say it's great, Bill. Say it's 
 the greatest thing you ever heard or ever will." 
 
 " My Lord, it is ! " 
 
 The tone was so solemn that it lead to a fresh 
 explosion from Jack. " Well, I guess if it's 
 made that much impression on you, it's a go." 
 
 " I guess it is," said Hutchinson, not less 
 gravely than before. " Why, I'm all churned 
 up. I feel about the way I did when Chicago 
 beat our team two to nothing." His smile broke 
 deliciously into his eyes. " Oh Hefty ! " and 
 then he stopped, and turned to hunt out a bot- 
 tle. 
 
 " Lord, what a night I've had ! " exclaimed 
 Jack comfortably with his glass in his hand. " I 
 began with Maxwell, and it seems to me I've 
 been in heaven and hell alternately ever since." 
 
 " I'd keep out of hell all I conveniently 
 could," observed Hutchinson genially. "By the 
 way, isn't it a stroke of luck for me that Cole's 
 resigning has left the instructorship open to 
 me? The regents offered it to me again to-day." 
 
 " Great, old chap, great ! " Jack wrung 
 Hutchinson's hand. 
 
 " Why, next year, Hefty, you'll be back from 
 313
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Berlin, and we'll be working here together. But 
 you'll be a mere kid still. I'll be staid with mid- 
 dle age in another year post-graduate work 
 eats up time like the mischief." 
 
 " Ten to one you'll be married before I get 
 back, Hutch. You're the kind of man who 
 feels his citizenship, and the duties pertaining 
 thereto." 
 
 "Am I?" 
 
 At another time Jack might have laughed at 
 Hutchinson's tone, but he felt suddenly over- 
 whelmed with weariness and in a hurry to be 
 gone. 
 
 " Oh, my note-book ! " he exclaimed as he 
 reached the door; he turned back and leaned 
 across the table for it inadvertently he lifted 
 with it a little volume on which he had placed it. 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 For, disclosed to view, there lay the photo- 
 graph of Betty Carter; Hutchinson had per- 
 haps covered it as Jack broke unannounced into 
 the room. 
 
 To both men it was a moment of profound 
 embarrassment, though why it should be so to 
 the other, each was at a loss to understand. 
 
 Then Jack turned towards the door again. 
 But once there, he looked back. He must speak. 
 314
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Oh, I say, Bill ! you won't mind " he 
 paused ; Hutchinson was looking at him stead- 
 ily " Say, old man, don't you have anything 
 to do there, old chap. She's not your sort, Bill 
 on my soul, she isn't." 
 
 " Betty " Jack's heart stood still at the 
 tone, and at the look in those blue eyes, serenely 
 proud " Betty not my sort? why, she's my 
 wife, Man." 
 
 There was a moment of silence; then Jack 
 stepped forward. " Your wife, Bill? Since 
 when?" 
 
 " Since three weeks ago. I know it seems 
 strange, Hefty, that I should do a thing like 
 that 'tisn't our way I mean the way of my 
 people but so many things seems different 
 when a man when he cares for a girl when 
 he knows he means to make her his wife." It 
 was such a relief to Hutchinson to unburden 
 himself he had never before had a secret to 
 keep covered, and he could hardly talk fast 
 enough, now that he was free of it. " I never 
 meant to do it that way, Hefty you wouldn't 
 believe I could, would you ? but after all, it's 
 men like me that do just those things that peo- 
 ple would naturally expect of you, and that you, 
 would never do. You see, I found her one night 
 315
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 in such trouble her father needed money bad- 
 ly he'd got mixed up in one of those out- 
 rageous swindles that have a trick of catching 
 the saints. It was nothing for me to straighten 
 out and well I don't know just how it hap- 
 pened, but the more I saw of her, the more 
 scared I got. There were so many men who 
 wanted Betty, and she was so worn out and so 
 sad, I was afraid she'd take somebody just to be 
 taken care of the hard places weren't meant 
 for her, Hefty. And so, we got married one aft- 
 ernoon over at Dighton after all, it was no- 
 body's business but our own, and we couldn't an- 
 nounce it, because I'd lose my place as instructor, 
 and it would make the devil of a row all round, 
 so we just made up our minds to keep it quiet un- 
 til after Commencement, and until I'd been home 
 and fixed it up with Mother. Dear Mother ! 
 she'll be sort of taken off her feet I know 
 she's had all sorts of dreams about the event 
 my marriage was to be but when she once 
 sees Betty Oh, Mother will understand ! 
 Why Betty no one here knows what she 
 really is. She's so brilliant that everybody de- 
 manded that she should make a sort of show- 
 piece of herself, but underneath, Betty why, 
 Betty is " 
 
 316
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " All right, old man," said Jack. His face 
 was as white as a sheet. " Good-night." 
 
 Hutchinson followed him out to the stairs. 
 But Jack did not look back. 
 
 317
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 " And so to the class of 1906 I say good- 
 bye " there was a break ; then Maxwell added 
 with a smile : " And may God have mercy on 
 your souls ! " 
 
 The students rose in a mass with a roar of 
 applause; Maxwell bowed and bowed again; 
 through the open window he could see the Dean 
 crossing the campus, turn and look up, his at- 
 tention compelled by the tumult. 
 
 " Maxwell ! Maxwell ! " 
 
 Again and again the professor bowed, then 
 at last lifted his hands in deprecatory gesture. 
 
 To-day he stood at the door and shook hands 
 with the students as they passed out for the last 
 time; many of them he would never see again, 
 for Commencement bored him, and he was gen- 
 erally absent upon that occasion. He was so 
 busy with these farewells that Jack Homf rey al- 
 most escaped him, but he reached out and held 
 him with a touch on the shoulder. 
 
 " See here, Homfrey, you didn't hear a word 
 of my lecture to-day, and, for you, I consider it 
 318
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the most important of the year. You'll need it 
 when you're listening to Paulsen." 
 
 Jack raised his dull eyes. " I'm not going 
 to Berlin." 
 
 " Not going to Berlin? " Maxwell stared at 
 him. " What the devil do you mean ? " He 
 shut the door at his right hand ; they were alone 
 now in the ugly, bare class-room with its ink- 
 pocked floors, and its rows of gaping seats, 
 which, as Jack looked, made him think of grin- 
 ning skulls with empty sockets. 
 
 " Now then ! " Maxwell spoke roughly ; he 
 looked vicious. There was almost nothing for 
 which he any longer cared, but this boy's future 
 had become a matter of personal ambition to 
 him. Jack little dreamed that he was destined 
 eventually to be master of the Stewartry, that 
 great home against which Maxwell had set his 
 heel on the day when his bitter disaster had be- 
 fallen him. 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " He waited in silence 
 and took note of the bruised and beaten aspect of 
 the boy before him. 
 
 " I can't go," muttered Jack. " I'm not 
 worth it. If you knew " 
 
 " If I knew what, you young ass ? " 
 
 "I I can't tell you. I've done the worst 
 319
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 thing I've Jack stopped ; he turned 
 his head away and leaned heavily against the 
 door-way. 
 
 " Hm ! " Maxwell was silent for some mo- 
 ments ; then he said in a tone that was ominously 
 quiet : " Of course, it's the woman. A man is 
 never such an ass as you're showing yourself to- 
 day unless it is. But I've expected this. I knew 
 it had to come sooner or later. Perhaps it's just 
 as well that it has, while I'm by to set you 
 straight. But I told you to leave Betty Carter 
 alone. I told you but that doesn't matter 
 now. What is it? Has she got you fixed so 
 that you think you must marry her ? You aren't 
 the first drivelling sot of a boy that has thought 
 he'd got to marry a girl and ruin his life be- 
 cause 
 
 " I don't have to marry her." The words 
 came heavily. 
 
 " Then what are you making this boo-hoo 
 about? Is your tender conscience seared be- 
 cause Oh Lord, boy ! haven't you learnt yet 
 that the world is full of women and why ? Damn 
 Betty Carter! She's played some deuced clever 
 trick on you, you poor simpleton ! " 
 
 " Betty Carter requires nothing of me. Betty 
 Carter's all all right." He must say that, 
 320
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 for Betty's honour had become the honour of 
 another an innocent man. 
 
 " Then what in thunder ? where's your 
 poem ? Is it written yet ? " 
 
 It was the first time Maxwell had inquired 
 about the poem ; it was not his way to encourage 
 by showing interest in a deed yet to be accom- 
 plished. If you were capable of accomplishing 
 it, you would that was all there was to be 
 said; he had no opinion of the student who re- 
 quired constant stimulus. 
 
 Jack pulled out his note-book; Maxwell took 
 it with an indifferent hand. 
 
 He read it twice slowly ; then gave it back 
 to Jack, who had waited dully, not even caring 
 for his opinion. 
 
 Maxwell looked at the boy. 
 
 " It's Keats a re-incarnation of Keats," he 
 thought. " And a woman badgered and broke 
 him, damn her ! " 
 
 " Try to be sane, lad," he said coolly. " You 
 are for some reason in one of those over-heated 
 frames of mind when you are apt to think the 
 sun has fallen from the sky, because something 
 has gone wrong in your own small affairs. 
 Something evidently has happened, but you can 
 magnify or ignore it as you choose. You will 
 321
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 do what you most enjoy doing. Men always do, 
 even though they justify their cowardice by 
 imagining themselves the victims of Fate. They 
 are merely the victims of their own choice to do 
 what they most desire. 
 
 " You've played the fool clearly enough. I 
 don't know how I don't want to know. It's 
 all immaterial. So long as you haven't got to 
 marry anybody, or pay out money you haven't 
 got " Maxwell smiled " My good fool, 
 the sun shines in its accustomed place, and all 
 is well. You've written this poem. Good 
 heavens, man! what more do you want? Do 
 you know where I'd rank it ? No ; and to-day 
 I won't tell you. You don't deserve it. Get out 
 into the fresh air, and come to see me to-morrow 
 and talk sense." 
 
 But after that, Maxwell stood still a long 
 time and watched Jack cross the campus. What 
 had happened? He wished he could know with- 
 out the discomfort of being told. He had a 
 great fear of the stirring of the depths of life ; 
 he had suffered, and demanded now that the sur- 
 face be calm at any cost. 
 
 But the boy he had wished him to know, to 
 suffer, and yet a moment ago he had denied to 
 him the divine right of the human being. 
 322
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Ay, and so he would again ! Suffering be 
 damned ! Repentance be damned ! The world 
 was not a theological seminary. He swung down 
 the stairs and out upon the campus, thronged 
 with hurrying students. 
 
 " Looks as if he thought he had just created 
 a universe," said one of them as he passed. 
 
 " He looks to me like Satan on a tear," re- 
 torted another, and was greeted with a shout of 
 appreciation. 
 
 Jack turned his steps across the campus in 
 the direction of the " house " he had a dozen 
 matters to arrange there, and it seemed to him 
 that the fellows relied upon him for every detail. 
 He was possessed of a horror of meeting Hutch- 
 inson or Betty how was he ever to get 
 through Commencement with its long list of 
 " occasions " upon which he and she must both 
 figure as prominent participants? It struck him 
 drearily that he, too, was a " show-piece " as 
 Hutchinson had described her. 
 
 Dinner at the house that night lasted intol- 
 erably ; the fellows were in hilarious mood ; every 
 now and then he wondered how much longer he 
 would be able to simulate the high spirits they 
 demanded of him they looked to him to rise a 
 323
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 notch above themselves. And all the while his 
 nerves seemed slipping slipping, and the dull 
 ache which had begun in his brain was spreading 
 to his finger-tips, where it became acute agony. 
 Yet he was singing loudest, and when " Peter " 
 Pawle struck up a waltz on the piano, he seized 
 " Oats " as Donald Scott was dubbed the 
 brawniest man in the fraternity and whirled 
 him about in a mad riot of missteps in which 
 those huge, untutored feet were a joy to the 
 jeering spectators. 
 
 " Faster faster ! " cried Hefty, and then 
 with a dexterous turn he sent " Oats " spinning, 
 while he performed a pas seul of such inimit- 
 ably uncouth grace, that some of the men felt 
 solemnly that the stage would never be what it 
 might until Hefty adorned it. 
 
 He sank at last breathless upon the floor, and 
 they gathered about him shouting : " Speech ! 
 Speech ! " And lying there prone, his head pil- 
 lowed on " Short " Cutler's knee, Hefty broke 
 his own record for brilliance in the half-hour 
 that followed. Anecdote and epigram crackled 
 upon his lips ; the wheels in his head were all 
 whirling now at the uttermost limit of speed 
 they felt as if they might at any moment fly off 
 into space, and go on revolving there forever
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 at a madder and a madder rate. What odds so 
 long as the fellows laughed ! What a great old 
 howl was that of Hank's ! But that pesky little 
 cackle of Blister's well, what you could ex- 
 pect of an inflated little bubble like Blister, any- 
 way? 
 
 It was near midnight when he left the house ; 
 it had not been easy to get away alone. But he 
 must have quiet. He must walk walk hard 
 and get this tumult in his brain stilled. The 
 thing was not to think, but just to walk and 
 enjoy the night. He was a poet. He could see 
 beauty in the darkness which another might 
 miss. Maxwell thought he was a poet. He must 
 remember that. 
 
 Remember what? What had he just been 
 thinking about? 
 
 But he was not going to think he remem- 
 bered that. 
 
 Yet suddenly, he stood still in the white dusty 
 road. Hutchmson! 
 
 " Oh Hutch ! " It was a groan. 
 
 What must he do? Must he go and tell 
 Hutch? 
 
 No ; he could never tell him that now. Better 
 let him remain happy and ignorant. 
 
 Then a lie was better than the truth in 
 325
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 such a case? Would Hutchinson think so? 
 
 What cruelty, what disloyalty to his friend! 
 Let old Hutch with his high ideals, his un- 
 stained traditions, come by the children who 
 would bear his name and perpetuate his family 
 through such a woman as as Betty Carter ? 
 The idea of the family and what he owed to it 
 was so strong in Hutch he never forgot the 
 generations of right living and pure blood that 
 had produced him and given him such fair start 
 in the world. His brains and his brawn were 
 clean, and he had thanked God therefor, with 
 none of the Pharisee's arrogance, but with a 
 deep and humble sense of the duty and privilege 
 which such heritage entailed. 
 
 To think that he, Hefty, should be the cause 
 of such hurt as this to Hutch ! It was unendur- 
 able he hated the pain of it. Whatever he 
 did now would work irreparable cruelty to 
 Hutch. What was the use of Maxwell's saying 
 it was all the same in the end ? right or 
 wrong, heaven or hell, fire or water. What a 
 lie! It was eternally different. What a lie to 
 argue that it mattered nothing whether the wife 
 of Hutchinson were a woman pure or impure; 
 whether he knew it or not ; whether his children 
 inherited good blood or bad ! 
 326
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Still, somebody's children had to inherit evil. 
 Why not old Hutch's as well as another's ? And 
 he had chosen to accept Betty Carter at her face 
 value ; giant in moral strength that he was, he 
 had let himself be beguiled like a weakling. 
 That was surely his own affair. 
 
 Jack lighted a cigar, and walked on at a 
 sharp pace. No man could be held responsible 
 for the blindness of another. He had never been 
 fool enough to want to marry Betty it had 
 remained for level-headed old Hutch to make 
 that break. 
 
 His entanglement with Betty was his own af- 
 fair and hers. There was no chance of its 
 ever becoming known to Hutch Betty was too 
 clever for that. Of course he could not now re- 
 turn to Waverley ; Betty would have a clear 
 field, and could be trusted to fill with brilliance 
 her ultimate position as wife of a professor. 
 
 Could she? Was it in her to accept so pro- 
 saic a role? 
 
 Perhaps not ; but no one could safeguard a 
 man against the disposition of his wife. Hutch- 
 inson, like others, must take the chances of his 
 choice. 
 
 What a night ! Jack looked up at the stars 
 and felt almost at peace with the world. It was 
 327
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 a great relief after the furnace of affliction he 
 had been in for twenty-four hours. He began 
 to sing " Still wie die Nacht " the song 
 matched the night and his mood; a sense of the 
 impregnable beauty of the world stole soothing- 
 ly upon him. He sat down by the road-side, 
 and eased his back against the trunk of a great 
 tree he was deadly tired; he had not slept 
 since but he was not going to think of that 
 again. 
 
 The night air, sweet with summer scents, blew 
 lightly upon him ; bye and bye he slept. 
 
 He awoke with a start, and looked about him, 
 bewildered. There ! a moment ago he had 
 seen them, Hutch's little children a row of 
 them with curly heads, adorable, dimpled things. 
 But they had turned from him, their innocent 
 eyes wet with tears tears that looked as 
 strange, as terrible as drops of blood upon a 
 flower. 
 
 " Oh God ! " he cried. And lay still. 
 
 What did it matter? it mattered all of 
 heaven and all of hell. It mattered and en- 
 dured to the last limit of eternity. 
 
 At last he understood; he knew that he was 
 not again to escape his own conscience. 
 
 Richarda's work had come to judgment; she 
 328
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 had pleaded that she might see of the travail of 
 her soul and be satisfied, but she had not meant 
 this; it would have seemed to her an answer of 
 stone to her cry for bread but nevertheless, 
 in this high moment her plea was granted. 
 
 " I must I must," moaned Jack. " I must 
 tell him." 
 
 The piercing scream of a whistle and the 
 broken jolting of arrested wheels made a pause 
 in his wretchedness. He stood up and looked 
 about him at the grass heavy with dew on 
 which he had been lying all night. It was the 
 beginning of another day ; the trees were throw- 
 ing off their purple shadows, and the birds were 
 whispering to the fledglings in their nests ; in 
 the east it was as if the veil of heaven were rent 
 upon some scene before the throne. 
 
 But Jack was taking note of none of these 
 things ; he was thinking with great difficulty, 
 that he must be near a station perhaps it was 
 Dighton ; he could see the big freight train now. 
 It seemed to stretch from one end of the little 
 town to the other. 
 
 A mighty longing to see Lady swept over 
 him; he forgot the gulf that had sprung be- 
 tween them he remembered only her tender- 
 329
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ness, all of a mother's that he had known. He 
 was aching so strangely the beat in his head 
 was maddening. If he could only lie for so 
 little a while on that bed in the cool, white 
 room where he had dreamed his boyish dreams 
 if he could only hear the light step of Lady 
 as he had so often heard it, and feel the touch 
 of her soft hand ! for his head was so hot 
 there were burning spots in his eyes. 
 
 He seemed to be walking there, to that 
 train, which somehow, was so far away and 
 then, presently, he gave somebody a dollar. And 
 after that, he lay still for a long time on the 
 floor of the caboose. 
 
 It was nine o'clock when the long line of 
 freight cars dragged slowly into the big sta- 
 tion ; he staggered across the tracks and then on 
 to the platform. Nine o'clock he must wait 
 an hour until Homf rey was safe in his office 
 down-town. Homfrey must never see him like 
 this. He knew now that he was ill as he hud- 
 dled in a corner of the waiting-room, he shivered 
 with a great fear the fear that before all 
 these strange people he would suddenly begin 
 to cry, " Lady ! Lady ! " For the thought of 
 her was all that he was clinging to now; she 
 stood between him and a horror of blackness 
 330
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 from which he shrank like a terrified child. 
 
 He began to repeat what he must do to reach 
 her he was so afraid he would forget. He 
 must take the street-car what a curious word ! 
 who had invented it ? But what was a street- 
 car? Oh yes, he remembered now. 
 
 He must take the car to Chauncey Street, and 
 get out there. Get out there? Why must he 
 get out there? 
 
 But that was where you always got out he 
 was sure of that. And then you walked 
 walked 
 
 He must have done that, for after an eter- 
 nity of time he felt his fingers close on some- 
 thing his heart gave a great throb, for he 
 knew it was the handle of the front door at 
 Number Seventy-nine. 
 
 He went in through the vestibule, and into 
 the big, cool hall the sun had been so hot out- 
 side, and yet he was so cold. 
 
 And then he looked up, and there coming 
 down the stair-case, was Lady, in a soft white 
 gown, with a bunch of yellow roses in her hand. 
 
 " Lady ! " he cried with a terrible sob 
 " Lady, I want you." 
 
 331
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 When Homfrey came home that evening, 
 Richarda hurried to meet him; he kissed her 
 tenderly ; the hours that separated them seemed 
 long to both now-a-days. 
 
 " Well ! anything momentous occurred since 
 I left this morning ? " he asked teasingly . 
 
 " Yes." Richarda's tone was so grave that 
 he dropped back a step on the stairs to look at 
 her. 
 
 " Dick ? " the note in his own voice was 
 sharply apprehensive. 
 
 " No." She hesitated. " It's Jack, Tim. He 
 came home ill this morning. Dr. Hall has been 
 here twice already. He is delirious." 
 
 " Hm ! Too bad. I hope you're not wearing 
 yourself out." 
 
 " No. The nurse has been here since three." 
 
 " You'll need two. I suppose you've ar- 
 ranged for that. Because, of course you under- 
 stand, Richarda : ' but Homfrey went up- 
 stairs without finishing the sentence. 
 332
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 That boy once more ! There were hospitals 
 at Waverley the very best. Why was he 
 here? 
 
 And there was Richarda with that look in her 
 eyes again the look that boy had always been 
 able to inspire ! 
 
 They sat through a wretched dinner-time 
 Homfrey silent, while Dick and his mother made 
 desultory remarks concerned with their anxiety 
 about Jack the boy seemed not able to leave 
 the subject alone. 
 
 " You remember we have tickets for ' Ro- 
 meo and Juliet ' to-night," said Homfrey as 
 they left the dining-room. 
 
 " Oh, send them to the Butlers', or get Mr. 
 Dawson to go with you." And Richarda hur- 
 ried away. 
 
 He had not thought that she would go; his 
 remark had been intended to suggest certain 
 things to her which she was in danger of over- 
 looking. It was not her son who was ill. 
 
 He sought Dawson, and between the acts 
 he unburdened himself of this new grievance. 
 
 " Haven't you anything to say ? " he asked 
 
 when Dawson remained silent. " You know this 
 
 is the one thing I can't stand. And here I'd 
 
 been congratulating myself that we were 
 
 333
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 through with it. Perhaps I'm irrational. Every 
 man is about something. You are." 
 
 " Oh Lord, yes ! " And then Dawson was 
 silent again. It was not until the end of the 
 next act that he said : " Leave your wife alone, 
 Tim. It's all you can do." 
 
 " Well, it's what I don't mean to do," re- 
 marked Homfrey irritably. 
 
 Dawson looked at him. " Let's go home," he 
 said crossly. " This babes-in-the-wood play 
 makes me sick. Tisn't in it with the real trage- 
 dies of life." 
 
 The week went by ; Homfrey saw less and less 
 of Richarda; there came a day when she was 
 neither at breakfast nor at dinner. But late in 
 the evening as he was sitting alone in the libra- 
 ry, he heard her foot on the stairs; he waited, 
 but as she did not come in, he went out to look 
 for her. She was sitting on the lowest step 
 with her face in her hands. 
 
 " Charda ! " He drew her into the library, 
 and would have put her into a chair, but she 
 stood firm. 
 
 "Charda, tell me! what is it?" The 
 sight of her white face, grown thin in these few 
 days, stirred him to tenderness. 
 334
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She looked at him without speaking ; then put 
 her hands together in a gesture that affected 
 him as strangely pathetic. 
 
 " You see, Dr. Hall thinks he will die. I 
 know he does," she said in a breathless voice. 
 " And I have been cruel to him." 
 
 " You cruel to that boy? " 
 
 She held up her hand she silenced him. 
 
 " Yes cruel. And now I can never make 
 it right. It is all done. And I have failed. I 
 deserted him when ' her tone changed ; she 
 began to speak rapidly, vehemently : " I 
 wanted to forget him I wanted just you and 
 Dick and now " 
 
 " Charda, be reasonable ! You are com- 
 pletely exhausted. You are in no condition to 
 judge - 
 
 "I I never was so well able to judge some 
 things. I never saw so clearly " 
 
 There was a sound ; they both turned to see 
 the nurse standing at the door. 
 
 " Mrs. Homfrey, I cannot quiet him. He 
 calls for you all the time." 
 
 She said that and hurried away. But Hom- 
 frey laid an arresting hand on his wife's arm. 
 
 " Oh, I must go," she protested miserably. 
 " He needs me, Tim." 
 
 335
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " But perhaps I need you." He still held 
 her. 
 
 " Ah, but just now, he comes first." There 
 were tears in her eyes. 
 
 " I don't see why." 
 
 "No. I think just now I wish you 
 did." 
 
 Homfrey looked at her steadily, his eyes 
 slowly filling with bitterness. " And 7 think 
 damn the " 
 
 " Tim ! " She sprang towards him, the tears 
 raining over her face. But in an instant, they 
 were checked, and such storm of passion as he 
 had never dreamed possible to her showed in the 
 gesture with which she turned from him, and in 
 the next instant, confronted him. 
 
 " You would damn that boy ? " her voice 
 was so low that he barely heard " and that 
 boy that boy " she stopped suddenly, then 
 added : " That boy is my Jack." 
 
 From Homfrey's point of view, she could have 
 said nothing more offensive to him; it was evi- 
 dent that she was still determined to elevate to 
 a position of paramount importance a difference 
 of opinion which he had felt willing to ignore 
 for the sake of the complete harmony which of 
 late had become possible to them. 
 336
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 An hour or two later he went up-stairs, and 
 passed the room where Jack lay; he heard a 
 moan, and then Richarda's voice: 
 
 " Sleep, my Saviour, sleep, 
 On Thy bed of hay " 
 
 over and over again, the single verse, for 
 when she ceased, the moaning began. It was 
 the little hymn with which she had often sung 
 him into dreams in bygone days ; the spell still 
 held ; when he heard it, even in delirium, he be- 
 came as a little child again. 
 
 Her voice wavered ceased ; in the instant, 
 the door opened, and she stood beside Homfrey. 
 She took no notice of him she was going to 
 her own room, but when she reached the couch 
 that stood in this square upper hall, she sank 
 upon it she could go no farther. 
 
 Homfrey's impulse was to leave her alone 
 but he looked back. No, he must go to her. 
 
 " Charda ! " 
 
 She sat up and looked at him as if she hardly 
 saw him. " I can't I can't sing any more," 
 she said in a dull voice. " And I must I must 
 sing all night, perhaps. And I don't know how 
 to. I've sung all day." She sprang up. 
 " There ! do you hear him? I must go." 
 337
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He held her. " Char da, do you know that 
 you are so exhausted that you are hysterical? I 
 forbid you " 
 
 " Oh Tim ! you forbid me? " 
 
 He let her go. Poor, pitiful child, with her 
 visions and ecstasies ! Yet perhaps, better these 
 than some other delusions. 
 
 When he saw her again, he inquired as to 
 Jack's welfare; she replied briefly that he was 
 improving, but day after day passed and she 
 still remained as devoted to the boy as she had 
 been when his case was most critical. Homfrey 
 felt himself so deeply injured, that he took 
 refuge upon a very high level of thought ; this 
 was Richarda's peculiar obsession, and he would 
 treat it without prejudice. But being merely 
 human, his nobility of intention manifested it- 
 self in such a withdrawing of himself from her, 
 that Richarda felt that her burden was once 
 more greater than she could bear. 
 
 Commencement Day was over; the month of 
 June was going out with the roses that had 
 come in with it as buds. Richarda had had to 
 answer many inquiries as to Jack's condition; 
 she had been deeply touched by a little inter- 
 view with Hutchinson, whose frank pleasure in 
 her instant remembrance of him had seemed to 
 her refreshingly boyish and sincere.
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 "You see, we all think so much of Hefty, 
 and we're so proud of him," he said shyly, " But 
 I guess I guess Hefty means a little more to 
 me than he does to any of the others. And 
 there are some things about him that I under- 
 stand better than anybody else does. He was 
 so strange that last time he came to see me I 
 knew something was the matter I was badly 
 bothered about him. Somehow, I never thought 
 of his being ill." 
 
 When later, she told him over the long dis- 
 tance telephone that Jack was out of danger, 
 he answered that he was just leaving Waverley 
 for his home, but that he would be sure to see 
 Hefty before he went to Berlin, if indeed, he 
 was able to do that at all this summer. 
 
 She had wondered much at Professor Max- 
 well's silence until Hutchinson told her that he 
 was delivering a course of lectures on the Pa- 
 cific coast, but that he was to return to Waver- 
 ley in time for the opening of the Summer 
 School ; Hutchinson was keeping him advised as 
 to Jack's condition, but the letter-writing habit 
 was not one of Maxwell's vices, and with the ex- 
 ception of several telegrams of anxious inquiry, 
 he had heard nothing from him. 
 
 339
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 It was a lovely July morning; Jack sat for 
 the first time by the open window, pillowed care- 
 fully in the easiest of chairs. But there was no 
 light in the eyes with which he looked out upon 
 the great bed of poppies, flame-red in the sun- 
 shine; his ears were not open to the sweet note 
 of the birds, a-wing with luscious morsels for 
 wishful throats. Richarda sat beside him; she 
 was sewing listlessly, or not at all, for her mind 
 was not on her work ; she was waiting in the 
 hope that Jack would speak to her that she 
 would at last understand what was the pass to 
 which this boy had come. 
 
 She waited until she could bear waiting no 
 more the set look of despair, the hopelessness 
 of the drooping figure filled her with a fear 
 which she felt at last she must acknowledge 
 she must speak if he would not. 
 
 " Jack " she leaned over " Tell me what 
 it is. I must know." 
 
 He looked at her a great wave of colour 
 spread over his white face. 
 
 "Why what makes you think " he could 
 say no more. 
 
 " Jack how could I help knowing some- 
 thing? You were delirious you said " but 
 now she paused. 
 
 340
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Fire and water, right and wrong, heaven and 
 hell how he had cried that out, over and over, 
 and then the refrain : " It's all the same in the 
 end, Lady, all the same in the end." 
 
 For he had always seemed to be conscious of 
 her, even when he had said things she knew he 
 could not have chosen her to hear. 
 
 Maxwell! Maxwell! and then, so often 
 some jest from which she shrank. 
 
 " Betty! Oh, leave me alone, Betty." She 
 learnt to dread that, because of the agony of 
 the cry which always followed : " Hutch, dear 
 old Hutch, what have I done? " 
 
 " I was delirious ? you mean " Jack's 
 hands were trembling now. 
 
 "Jack can't you trust me? Perhaps, if I 
 knew just what the trouble is, I might help." 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 But she was determined; she spoke very gen- 
 tly " There seems to have been a Betty. Was 
 that the girl I saw once? Is it anything about 
 her? " 
 
 " Lady, I can't tell you." He looked pit- 
 eously at her. 
 
 " But you must. For something's wrong. 
 And if I don't know what it is, how can we set 
 it straight?" 
 
 341
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " There are some things that can't be set 
 straight, Lady." 
 
 " Are there? I don't believe it," she said with 
 a great show of confidence. 
 
 " Yes. Because sometimes, nothing that you 
 would do would be right. And this time I've 
 hurt old Hutch, and the hurt can never be set 
 straight." 
 
 " Mr. Hutchinson ? But he's so fond of you, 
 Jack. How could you hurt him? Don't you 
 understand that you've been ill, and perhaps 
 you're imagining all sorts of things. Why, Mr. 
 Hutchinson wants to see you." 
 
 " That's because he doesn't know. When he 
 does " 
 
 Richarda was suddenly afraid ; they both sat 
 silent for some time. 
 
 Then she said tremblingly : " Tell me the 
 truth. Is it anything very bad, Jack? I must 
 know." 
 
 " It is very bad, Lady." 
 
 She was silent again ; she felt stricken as by 
 a blow. She understood now that there was 
 something before her to be borne; for a little 
 while she flinched. 
 
 Then she said her voice was very, light : 
 " Jack, have you not been a good boy ? " 
 342
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He understood that, to Lady, that question 
 had but one meaning. 
 
 The tears came into his eyes he could not 
 keep them back. " No, Lady, I have not been 
 a good boy." 
 
 " Jack ! " it was a moan. This then was 
 the measure meted out to her in return for her 
 effort to atone ! This was the reward offered to 
 her by the life she had undertaken to redeem, to 
 render so noble that it should be its own excuse 
 for being, and not a reproach to the one re- 
 sponsible for it. 
 
 " I shall have to go away," said Jack in a 
 voice that faltered. " I mustn't stay here. Be- 
 cause you don't know " he realised that 
 what she thought he had done seemed to her the 
 worst that a man could do. " You see, Lady 
 that is not all. That is the least part of it." 
 
 "The least part of it?" 
 
 " Yes. When you know it all " 
 
 She sat quite still now, looking down at her 
 hands. She was groping in the dark among 
 her fears ; she felt like a common coward. She 
 wished herself the weakest of women, that she 
 might take refuge behind the weakness that was, 
 a woman's natural defence. But she knew her- 
 self strong. That was the misery of it. 
 343
 
 She had failed, and Homfrey would know 
 it! A few tears ran down her face untouched; 
 Jack saw them ; he closed his eyes ; he felt faint 
 again. 
 
 But when he opened them she was looking at 
 him, and her wet face had upon it the sheen of 
 divine tenderness. 
 
 " Jack, I will help you to tell me. Because I 
 must know it all everything. You are my 
 boy. I will not forget that." 
 
 Through long years the gospel of renuncia- 
 tion had been her law of life ; she understood its 
 every letter. For a little while, she had dis- 
 owned it, but obedience to it was at root second 
 nature to her. 
 
 "It was that Betty, wasn't it, Jack?" she 
 spoke rapidly now ; the way was clear to her ; she 
 saw what she must do. " You you were not 
 good about her, Jack? That is so strange " 
 her breath caught in her throat : " I can't un- 
 derstand that, Jack, but men are so so " 
 the look in her sweet eyes blinded him " and 
 then then but how could that hurt Mr. 
 Hutchinson? Did he love her? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Oh Jack ! I can't believe that of you. You 
 knew that he loved her '* 
 344
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 "No Lady. I didn't." 
 
 She gave a sigh of relief; her lips were 
 trembling. 
 
 And as Jack looked at her, a vast contempt 
 for himself arose in him. He was such a cow- 
 ard that he had not the grit to tell her of his 
 disgrace straightly ; he was letting her bear the 
 burden of this confession. 
 
 He sat up ; his thin face hardened. "I made 
 that girl mine, Lady," he said in a dull voice: 
 " She was mine until almost the moment that the 
 man I love best in the world, married her. I 
 did not know that he meant to marry her, but 
 I could have saved him. And now I must tell 
 him what she is, Lady. I must tell old Hutch 
 that." 
 
 As he spoke Richarda felt the Jack she had 
 known slipping farther and farther from her; 
 she was even conscious of a horror of the depths 
 of her cold repugnance to this hateful story and 
 to the boy who was responsible for it. 
 
 " I must go away and think about it all," she 
 said remotely. " There is nothing you want ? " 
 
 She went away. 
 
 This! and she had dreamed that she would 
 see of the travail of her soul and be satisfied. 
 
 She had set herself, alone, against all odds 
 345
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of inheritance, to conquer. And she had be- 
 lieved that she must conquer. In spite of out- 
 ward indication, she was at heart an imperious 
 woman; she had demanded as her due the justi- 
 fication of her ambitions for this boy. And now 
 she hurled anathema in the face of that decree 
 which denied to her her right. 
 
 The storm which raged in her was the fiercest 
 she had ever known; and she had known many. 
 It seemed to her that the foundations upon 
 which she had reared the structure of her life 
 were in ruins but in her plans she had al- 
 lowed for no weakness of the human material 
 with which she built. 
 
 To the first violence of her awakening there 
 succeeded hours in which she lay, unable to 
 think ; conscious only of such confusion of 
 suffering that at times she wondered whether 
 she were suffering at all. 
 
 As for Homfrey a certain hardness gath- 
 ered in her mind towards him. It was not that 
 she wished undone what she had done, but she 
 realised with intensest resentment, how bitter the 
 doing had been to her. 
 
 Night came; she did not go down to dinner; 
 she sent word to her husband that she was worn 
 out and was trying to get some sleep. 
 346
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 The maid brought back to her on a silver 
 tray a single white rose, cut long-stemmed from 
 the bush beneath her window. " Mr. Homfrey 
 said I was to tell you it is the last," she said. 
 
 Richarda could hardly wait for the girl to 
 leave the room a passion of tears was upon 
 her. For she knew all that the sending of that 
 rose to her meant; she felt as never before the 
 beauty of the life that should have been hers 
 with her husband. 
 
 But there was this blot this ugly sin that 
 could not be got rid of that persisted domin- 
 ant over all effort to efface it. 
 
 She had wished her life to be as fair as this 
 white rose, and instead, she saw it unlovely, be- 
 smirched with the mire from which coarse weeds 
 sprung. 
 
 After a long time she fell asleep ; she was too 
 weary to think and suffer any more. 
 
 When she awoke she lay still for some time; 
 she did not remember the misery upon which 
 she had gone to sleep. Then she noticed sud- 
 denly that outside her windows the grey light 
 of dawn was showing; she sprang up in instant 
 alarm. Jack ! all these weeks he had been 
 her first thought and her last. 
 
 Jack ! She stopped, and put up her hand un- 
 347
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 certainly to her head she was remembering. 
 
 Then she had left him alone since yesterday 
 morning cruel ! She threw on her dressing- 
 gown in a moment she was in his room. 
 
 He was alone; it was no longer necessary for 
 the nurse to sit up with him. 
 
 As she bent over him, she saw that his eyes 
 were widely opened ; there was a look in them 
 that alarmed her. But he knew her at once. 
 
 " Oh, Lady, it's you. I'm so glad you've 
 come. I've been waiting for you. Because I 
 want to tell you I've thought it all out I 
 know what I can do. I can die, you see. And 
 then old Hutch why, that would make it all 
 right, wouldn't it? " His voice broke in a tense 
 whisper. 
 
 Richarda went away, and came back with 
 something for him in a little glass. 
 
 " I want you to take this," she said quietly, 
 " and then you're going asleep." 
 
 He obeyed her like a child ; when she had him 
 settled on his straightened pillows he closed his 
 eyes with a light sigh. And she began to sing 
 again, very softly, the quaint, sad little lullaby 
 that had soothed him these many nights. 
 
 For several days after that he lay in a stupor ; 
 the effort of confession had exhausted the little 
 348
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 strength he had acquired. And she sat beside 
 him, working his story over in her mind, dis- 
 secting the influences which had affected him un- 
 til she understood the significance of many 
 things which had been obscure to her. She 
 recognized at last that Jack had needed her at 
 Waverley as he had never needed her in his 
 life. 
 
 The paramount influence in his later develop- 
 ment had been that of Maxwell, and there had 
 been nothing to counteract it. Maxwell ! the 
 name grew abhorrent to her. The longer she 
 thought, the more clearly she became convinced 
 that he was immediately responsible for Jack's 
 fall. He had taught his most brilliant pupil to 
 scoff at all that she had sought to teach him to 
 revere; he had obliterated the boy's innocent be- 
 lief in goodness and purity ; he had trained him 
 to look upon life as a grinning skull upon which 
 the beauty of righteousness was merely a clever 
 mask. 
 
 Her anger grew ; was this man to pursue his 
 work of devastation unchecked? For Jack was 
 only one of hundreds who came under his in- 
 fluence what of the others less able even than 
 he to withstand the blight Maxwell cast upon 
 worthy desires, upon those traditions hallowed 
 349
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 by long 1 service in that persistent search after 
 faith which redeemed humanity? 
 
 Was every one afraid of him ? was there no 
 one who dared tell him the truth ? who dared 
 show him that his philosophy of life was false 
 that it was corrupt and debasing? 
 
 Her soul burnt in a white flame when she 
 looked at the boy at the boy whom she had 
 sent forth pure, his heart high with the blessed 
 hope and courage of youth. 
 
 It was Maxwell who had sent him back to her 
 as he lay there to-day broken and despoiled. 
 
 350
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Maxwell looked at the card. 
 
 "Mrs. Homfrey? show her up." 
 
 " Here, Sir? " 
 
 " Here ? of course, here." 
 
 He was in one of his most pyrotechnic moods ; 
 he preferred that his visitor should see him sur- 
 rounded by the tools which were the evidence of 
 the scholar's craft. 
 
 The half -closed door opened wide Ri- 
 charda came in. She paused ; the glare of the 
 sun was still in her eyes, and this unfamiliar room 
 with its smoky atmosphere, and its walls dark 
 with endless rows of books, for the moment 
 dazed her. 
 
 " Mrs. Homfrey ? " there was infinite grace 
 of deference in Maxwell's manner; though he 
 frightened women, he was himself at perfect 
 ease with them. 
 
 " Yes. And you ? Dr. Maxwell ? " said 
 Richarda nervously. 
 
 Maxwell bowed, a slight smile twisting the 
 corners of his mouth. " Let me give you this 
 351
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 chair you will not mind that open window ? " 
 
 He was deftly attentive quick to relieve her 
 of her sunshade she perceivd that he 
 had been born, not manufactured, a gentleman. 
 
 She looked at him timidly, unconscious of the 
 na'ive charm in the dependent simplicity of her 
 manner. The smile twisted Maxwell's lips 
 again. 
 
 Richarda was very much a woman. She had 
 come forth upon this errand with a soul aflame 
 with righteous anger, but though she held no 
 university degree, she was a psychologist of no 
 mean order when it came to a question of vital 
 knowledge as to the effect of certain sartorial 
 values upon the mind of man. And Maxwell de- 
 cided swiftly, as she had designed that he 
 should, that she was a woman very good to look 
 at. 
 
 " You've come to tell me about Homfrey," he 
 said easily. He was looking young this morn- 
 ing and handsome, in a curiously whole- 
 hearted, boyish way ; he was disconcertingly un- 
 like the man of her imagination, before whose 
 image she had been for hours rehearsing her 
 part. " When I reached a little hell-hole in 
 Nebraska the other day, I found one of my 
 students who graduated two years ago, station- 
 352
 
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 master. That's what education does for a man, 
 you see. He was holding a letter for me from 
 Mr. Hutchinson a letter I had been anxious 
 to get. I had a great time in the West vis- 
 ited seven colleges, and received ovations all 
 along the line from that too enthusiastic animal, 
 the student." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Richarda. 
 
 "It's been pretty hard luck for Homfrey. I 
 want to see him as soon as possible. When do 
 you think I might ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said Richarda slowly. 
 
 " Of course you've read his poem? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You haven't ? Good Lord ! it was great 
 stuff." Maxwell wondered whether these peo- 
 ple who had fostered Homfrey understood at 
 all the quality of the boy. 
 
 Richarda suddenly felt the tears hot under 
 her dropped eye-lids. But she only said with 
 irritating passivity : " Yes ? " 
 
 "Yes everlasting Yes in the case of that 
 boy," said Maxwell in his bluntest manner. " No 
 one but a damned fool could question it." 
 
 Richarda looked up and at him steadily. 
 " Don't say that kind of thing to me, Dr. Max- 
 well." 
 
 353
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Maxwell laughed. " I beg your pardon, 
 though I do not quite understand but that 
 does not matter, does it ? " 
 
 Whew! What pretty lights in her eyes! 
 it was long since he had felt himself so enter- 
 tained. " A little paint would be a more dan- 
 gerous thing than much learning," he reflected, 
 as he watched the brilliant red of excitement and 
 embarrassment glow suddenly in her face. He 
 flashed a daring glance at her. 
 
 Richarda clasped her hands tightly together ; 
 with manifest effort she held back the too quick 
 breath on her lips. " I have a good deal to 
 say to you," she began simply. " I wonder if 
 you will listen to me." But she waited for no 
 answer; with the sound of her own voice, her 
 courage came fast. " Perhaps you do not real- 
 ise that I understand that what you said just 
 now implies a doubt as to my knowing what kind 
 of a boy Jack is what kind of a mind he 
 has. I think I know better perhaps than you 
 do." She waited a moment ; then to her distress 
 and humiliation she felt a rush of tears upon 
 her face. 
 
 " You will pardon me if I light a cigarette? " 
 said Maxwell blandly ; he felt suddenly irritably 
 nervous. A woman tears Oh Lord! what 
 was he in for now? 
 
 > 354
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 But Richarda was calm again. " I shall like 
 you to smoke. Then I shall not be disturbed by 
 the feeling that you are thinking that your 
 time is quite wasted." There was the flash in 
 her eyes again that it interested Maxwell to see. 
 He had smoked a woman out of his room before 
 now, but as he leaned back in his chair, looking 
 at Richarda out of keen half-closed eyes, he 
 was not sure, in spite of those obnoxious tears, 
 that she was the kind of woman he wanted to 
 smoke out; she promised an, experience. But 
 what the deuce was it all about? What was she 
 here for? 
 
 " I don't know how to begin to tell you," she 
 faltered. " It is not easy. But I must. There 
 is nothing else for me to do. Other people may 
 never understand as I have come to under- 
 stand what it is that happens to their boys 
 when they listen to you. Perhaps the boys 
 themselves may never understand. Their ruin 
 may occur to them so insidiously, in the form of 
 what you may call enlightenment, that they 
 may not realise it. But some day, when they 
 should do the good thing, they will do the bad 
 one instead. And ?.t will be because of you." 
 Richarda leaned forward; she looked steadily 
 at Maxwell ; she was no longer afraid. 
 355
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " The deuce it will ! " said Maxwell. It oc- 
 curred to him that there is no man so courageous 
 as the woman who is, or fancies herself to be, 
 protecting the man for whom she cares against 
 some other man. He was infinitely amused ; he 
 looked at Richarda with the slow smile that his 
 students knew well. " I have heard this before," 
 he added genially. " Many frenzied guardians 
 of the ignorance of youth have arraigned me on 
 the same charge. My guilt as a destroyer is 
 generally fastened upon me by quotations of 
 various of my remarks as to the value of the 
 Pentateuch as history, or as to the poetic beauty 
 of the tale of the Virgin Birth. These people 
 invariable treat all such questions as events at 
 which they were almost if not quite present. Is 
 it anything like that? " He smiled again. 
 
 " I wish it were," said Richarda simply. 
 " Those seem to me very irrelevant matters. 
 What I want to talk to you about is something 
 that has the most real relation to the question of 
 our own ways in life to the ways of these boys, 
 and to your influence upon them. You know, 
 don't you? " she looked at him wistfully 
 " that you have more influence on the students 
 here than all the other professors put to- 
 gether." 
 
 356
 
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 " You honour me, Mrs. Homfrey." 
 
 She ignored the sarcastic inflection. " When 
 I sent Jack to you four years ago I believed that 
 he was going to fulfill all my ambitions for him. 
 I had many. He went away from me all that I 
 could have wished him to be." 
 
 Maxwell muttered something; the stupidity 
 of the woman with her vapid sentimentalising 
 over the unfortunate male within her gates ! 
 
 " Perhaps I should tell you," he remarked 
 with quiet incisiveness : " that one of the first 
 things I consider it my duty to do for the sopho- 
 more class, is to cut it loose from its mother's 
 apron-string. There is no more vicious tie, my 
 dear woman, for the young human animal after 
 he reaches a certain age." 
 
 " I think I understand that I had always 
 been thinking of the coming of that time I 
 had wished to prepare Jack for it. I had rea- 
 sons for wishing it to come : " her voice quiv- 
 ered " I even wished to be rid of the respon- 
 sibility of Jack." 
 
 Maxwell felt some astonishment. " You 
 wished to be rid of him? Of course, I under- 
 stand that you and your husband are not his 
 parents." 
 
 But Richarda went on as if she had not no- 
 357
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ticed. " I let him go willingly. There came a 
 time when he felt himself cut off from me. And 
 I think he had never needed me as much as he 
 did just then. For he came under your influence. 
 And you took away from him everything that 
 he had faith in even perhaps, his faith in 
 me." 
 
 " His faith in you ? Was there any particu- 
 lar reason why he should have faith in you? 
 Do you consider yourself better than other 
 women, Mrs. Homfrey? " 
 
 How often he had said to Jack that there was 
 not one of them who had not her price if a man 
 were only shrewd enough to guess it and he 
 had thought himself persuaded that he believed 
 it. 
 
 Richarda's eyes measured him calmly. " I 
 think I must at least be better than some of the 
 women you have known, Dr. Maxwell." 
 
 " That would be easy." 
 
 " No doubt." 
 
 Maxwell felt an instant's impulse to pick up 
 this woman and carry her to the landing for 
 the purpose of dropping her over the stairs. 
 Then he smiled; he was a philosopher, and the 
 antics of humanity quite as valuable to the in- 
 vestigator as its aspirations. 
 358
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Of course, I understand now what you wish 
 to tell me, Mrs. Homfrey," he said suavely. 
 " The last time that I saw Homfrey he was in 
 a half -hysterical state he was ill then 
 though I did not realise it. But I feared that 
 he had got into some entanglement, and I asked 
 him about a girl here you may have heard 
 him mention her. His answers to me were un- 
 satisfactory, but I hear that the girl's marriage 
 is announced to one of our instructors, fine 
 fellow, too : so that incident, if there ever was 
 any, is inadmissible, and Homfrey well out of it. 
 But I understand your view as to the affair. It 
 is inevitable, and quite proper for you. You 
 evidently think you know something that I do 
 not, and I suppose you attribute what you con- 
 sider Homfrey's " fall " to me. Your standard 
 for him, is, of course, what it would be for your 
 daughter." Maxwell laughed softly. " It's a 
 pretty theory of things, but it leaves out of 
 sight the fact that boys are not girls. You 
 have lived the sheltered life of your class, but 
 I imagine you think you know a good deal of 
 life every married woman imagines that 
 in reality, you probably know just what your 
 husband chooses to permit you to know. Of the 
 actual influences which go to the making of 
 359
 
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 men you have a boudoir conception. The fact 
 that you think that I have contaminated your 
 boy is sufficient evidence of this. Lord ! " Max- 
 well laughed again. 
 
 Richarda sat quite still. 
 
 " It never seems to occur to good women," 
 continued Maxwell, " that the man of their 
 idealisation would be as exossate as a jelly-fish. 
 The place of empiricism in human life they 
 allow nothing for that." 
 
 " You think, then, that Jack is better that 
 he has taken a step up, because " 
 
 " That is heroic statement," interrupted Max- 
 well impatiently. " The boy has been a fool. 
 I told him so. But this matter is one that a 
 man cannot discuss satisfactorily with a woman. 
 She mistakes Mrs. Grundy's point of view for 
 her own and the Deity's." 
 
 " Perhaps sometimes," said Richarda 
 gently. " But, in this case you think, then, 
 that it does not matter about Mr. Hutchinson ? " 
 
 " What doesn't matter? " 
 
 Richarda flushed, but she looked directly at 
 Maxwell. " I think you understand." 
 
 Maxwell shrugged his shoulders. " I think 
 Hutchinson has to take his chances in marry- 
 ing as every fool does. Who knows what he's 
 360
 
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 getting? It's a deuced nasty situation of 
 course, but there have been worse. And the 
 sooner Homfrey gets off to Berlin and forgets 
 it, the better for all parties concerned." 
 
 " You think he can forget it ? " Richarda's 
 voice was very quiet. 
 
 " It's the only decent thing he can do. What 
 else could he do? " 
 
 " Suppose he thought he ought to tell Mr. 
 Hutchinson? " 
 
 For a moment Maxwell stared at her. " Tell 
 Hutchinson ! Oh, the ! " he suppressed an 
 exclamation. Then his anger rose his brows 
 ground together in deep black lines. " Perhaps 
 I ought to tell you, Mrs. Homfrey, that, in a 
 way, I have undertaken Homfrey. I have an 
 interest in his future which gives me some rights. 
 As I have said to you, I wish to see him I 
 should like" 
 
 " And I should like you to see him," broke in 
 Richarda. " I should like you to see him just 
 as he is now. I should like you to see what a 
 boy, once pure and noble and full of fine ambi- 
 tions becomes, when he has lived what you have 
 taught him to believe. You may not be con- 
 sistent enough to do as you think, but my boy 
 has been. And I should like you to see the re- 
 361
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 suit of your teaching, and then I should like 
 to know what you think of your work." 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Homfrey " 
 
 Richarda held up her hand. " I think it is 
 my turn. I have been silent while you have 
 spoken. I have listened while you arraigned 
 me as a woman with a Mrs. Grundy conception 
 of things while you sneered at my ignorance. 
 I wonder how ignorant of what you call life, 
 you will think me when I tell you some things 
 for I mean to tell you some things that I 
 never speak of to anyone. For you shall not, 
 if I can help it, ruin another boy as recklessly as 
 you have ruined Jack. And I think that you 
 are, in spite of all that you say, a better man 
 than you believe. I think " 
 
 " Thank you. That is also, a little way 
 women have of regarding the men it interests 
 them to consider depraved. Psychologically, 
 it is considered to be due more to a physiological 
 impulse, I believe, than to the spiritual one upon 
 which they plume themselves." 
 
 Richarda looked at him with contempt. " It 
 was a mistake that remark. You know it, 
 Dr. Maxwell. But I must hurry. When I was 
 married eighteen years ago Oh, I am nob 
 going to tell you about myself I am only 
 362
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 going to tell you about Jack. What I had 
 meant to say was, that when I had been mar- 
 ried about two years my husband was away 
 from home a girl came to see me. She told 
 me that she had a little boy her child she 
 told me that she must give him to someone. You 
 see, she had she was going to marry a man, 
 who could do well by her, but he must never 
 know about the boy." Richarda's voice lagged 
 as if unable to keep pace with the gait set for it 
 by the force which was driving her to speech. 
 " She had heard of me through my servants 
 she thought I would be kind to the little boy 
 she gave him to me." 
 
 " The boy, of course, is Jack Homfrey," said 
 Maxwell swiftly. 
 
 " Yes. The boy is Jack." 
 
 " But your husband men as a rule don't 
 care about adopting stray children. And you 
 have a son of your own I've heard Homfrey 
 speak of him." 
 
 Maxwell was looking steadily at Richarda 
 he had forgotten his cigarette. 
 
 " Yes. I have a son of my own," repeated 
 Richarda mechanically. 
 
 " But your husband it seems to me did 
 your husband approve of your taking the child 
 363
 
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 to assist in the hoodwinking of a deserving 
 man?" 
 
 Richarda's eyes unconsciously expressed a 
 sudden fright ; then she drew herself together. 
 
 " My husband had nothing to do with it." 
 
 " Your husband had nothing to do with it? 
 Pardon me, Mrs. Homfrey, but the case seems 
 unique. Your husband had nothing to do with 
 your taking a cast-off child into your home, to 
 bring up with his own son ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course, in a way." Richarda spoke 
 carefully. " But my husband has always left 
 me very free to do as I chose about things. I 
 told him that I wished to see what I could do 
 with the child that I wanted to see whether 
 I could not bring him up to be good. It was a 
 great opportunity, I thought." 
 
 " Very," assented Maxwell. 
 
 " You see, women like me have so little chance 
 to do anything that really matters," continued 
 Richarda. 
 
 " Very little." 
 
 " But this gave me one. My life has seemed 
 very full with Jack to think of. I was al- 
 ways thinking about him,, and planning for 
 him." 
 
 " And yet " for a moment Maxwell paused, 
 364
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 considering " you said the time came when 
 you wanted to get rid of him." 
 
 The frightened look came back into Ri- 
 charda's eyes. " I am not sure that I meant just 
 that. I should not have said that." 
 
 Maxwell lighted another cigarette. " I don't 
 see why you shouldn't. It seems to me quite 
 natural. I suppose the time came when you 
 got tired of the responsibility of a boy " he 
 looked steadily at Richarda " who had no pos- 
 sible claim upon you or your husband." 
 
 The breath upon Richarda's lips ceased for 
 a moment ; then she turned to Maxwell. " I am 
 afraid I am talking too much about myself, 
 I mean. But you see, now, don't you? why 
 I wanted to tell you why I have cared so 
 much? I had made Jack my charge, my life's 
 work " she smiled as if to indicate to Maxwell 
 her appreciation of the humour of the expres- 
 sion as applied to anything that she might do, 
 but in the next moment, her eyes had clouded. 
 " And I did I did make of Jack what I 
 wanted him to be. And then you came." 
 
 " Yes, I came." Maxwell leaned slightly for- 
 ward. " I admit that. I see your case against 
 me. And I understand that from your point 
 of view, it has a googl deal of justification. But 
 365
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 you see, I am curious. The motives of peo- 
 ple have a morbid interest for me the motives 
 of some people. I should like to ask you some- 
 thing. Was it for Jack's own sake that you 
 made him your charge - that you took him into 
 your home in the first place? " 
 
 For a moment Richarda sat silent; she won- 
 dered confusedly what was making this so diffi- 
 cult. It had all been simple enough when she 
 had left home upon her errand. Now it seemed 
 as if it all consisted of things she must not say 
 things which demanded impossible explana- 
 tion. But certainly, she had not come here to 
 answer questions. She looked with dignity at 
 Maxwell. 
 
 " I do not think that we need discuss my 
 motives." 
 
 " Oh, we need not. But the trouble is I 
 want to," said Maxwell calmly. " You see, while 
 you have been talking to me, I have been reach- 
 ing conclusions. And I have formed the opin- 
 ion that you took the boy for your husband's 
 sake." 
 
 Richarda looked at Maxwell. 
 
 " Curious what women will do for men." 
 Maxwell shrugged his shoulders. " And what 
 they will not do for them." 
 366
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda's eyes flashed. But in the next in- 
 stant her courage was gone again. " I do not 
 know what you mean," she said nervelessly. 
 
 " My dear lady, don't let us waste time. The 
 story, as you tell it, and if you will pardon 
 me as one looks at you, is simplicity itself. 
 But there is something that I do not quite fath- 
 om. Homfrey has always been frank with 
 me. He told me that you had brought him up, 
 but does he know No, he surely does not 
 that" 
 
 Richarda stood up suddenly. " Please don't 
 ask me anything, Dr. Maxwell there is noth- 
 ing that I can tell you." 
 
 " Then he does not know that your husband 
 is his father. Well, you have an interesting 
 situation there, Mrs. Homfrey." 
 
 Richarda sat down again ; the tears which 
 had come so bitterly into her eyes did not fall. 
 She was thinking fast now, with the instinct to 
 protect Homfrey paramount. The catastrophe 
 which she had so unwittingly brought upon her- 
 self must wait her own humiliation what 
 did it matter? 
 
 " Your husband " began Maxwell again. 
 
 Richarda stiffened. " I do not know why 
 you insist upon " 
 
 367
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Maxwell laughed. " I should like to ask your 
 husband 
 
 " M j husband? " Involuntarily, Richarda 
 clasped her hands. " But my husband 
 
 " Your husband " repeated Maxwell he 
 was looking at her with his slight sarcastic 
 smile, for he was thinking, that in spite of her 
 devotion, she had probably made things rather 
 difficult for the erring Homfrey he had un- 
 doubtedly had to do a great deal of repenting. 
 Well, a woman had to do one of two things in 
 life either get into mischief herself, or spend 
 her time imagining that she kept some man out 
 of it. " Your husband " repeated Maxwell 
 " He has probably worn out a good many suits 
 of sackcloth, hasn't he? " 
 
 But Richarda said nothing; he was puzzled 
 by her indifference to the taunt. Then it oc- 
 curred to him that she had not told him what he 
 most wanted to know. 
 
 " I have never met your husband. That's 
 rather strange. But now that I know what you 
 have told me, I shall have great interest in doing 
 so." 
 
 He waited, but Richarda made no answer; 
 she was looking out of the window, her face 
 struck him as strangely still. And then he saw, 
 368
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 that with hardly the stirring of a breath to be- 
 tray her, the tears standing full in her eyes, 
 had begun slowly to fall. 
 
 Poor child ! She must have been a tender 
 thing in her twenties to face an experience like 
 that ; she looked adorably girlish even now. She 
 had undoubtedly suffered people choose to 
 suffer in such strange ways but he hated the 
 thought of suffering for anyone. He would 
 spend hours over a wounded bird, in the effort 
 to stay its pain ; if its life fluttered out, he 
 would brood for the rest of the day, sullen and 
 unappeased, his mind filled with black thoughts 
 which wrought themselves in aching pessimistic 
 line upon his face. 
 
 This woman with the still tears upon her 
 face she looked like a white dove with a 
 Maxwell paused, with a sudden smile for him- 
 self. Yes, she was a woman a woman of 
 charm ; the magic of sex was working upon him 
 as it would upon the rawest boy. 
 
 And then Richarda turned to him. " I have 
 made a great mistake," she said in a low voice. 
 " I have done my husband a great wrong. I 
 have made it possible for you to know, what I 
 never meant anyone to know. And now I have 
 to ask you " for a moment she was silent be- 
 369
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 cause of the quivering of her lips "I have to 
 ask you to help me." She waited again. " My 
 husband must not know. If you met him if 
 you talked to him " 
 
 " You do not suppose " began Maxwell 
 then he stopped. " You do not mean " he 
 stopped again. 
 
 " Yes, I mean that," said Richarda. 
 
 Maxwell straightened his shoulders. " My 
 dear lady, what do you mean? " 
 
 Richarda looked at him wondering. " There 
 is only one thing that I could mean. I mean 
 that my husband must never know that he is " 
 but she could not say it; she looked helplessly 
 at Maxwell. Then as he said nothing, she blun- 
 dered on, too nervous to stop. " You see, I 
 never told him. He has never known that Jack 
 is I couldn't. It was the way I felt about it 
 I could not have everything destroyed be- 
 tween us. But lately I don't know. I don't 
 know that that was best. It is sometimes so 
 hard to tell what is best. Don't you think it 
 is?" 
 
 But Maxwell said nothing ; he seemed for the 
 
 moment interested only in his cigarette, and 
 
 Richarda felt herself somehow rebuked ; she did 
 
 not understand for what. Every moment now 
 
 370
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 only added to her consciousness that she had 
 made a fatal mistake. And she had been so 
 sure of herself! 
 
 " I must go," she said wearily. " I haven't 
 said what I came to say. I came here thinking 
 only of Jack, and of those other boys, who per- 
 haps have no one to care for them as I had cared 
 for him." 
 
 Maxwell turned upon her. " Did you think 
 you were good to the boy? Has it never 
 occurred to you what a wrong it was to him, to 
 let him grow up without knowing who his father 
 was? Do you think the boy hasn't suffered as 
 he had no business to suffer? I know that he 
 has. I understand some things in Homfrey that 
 I have never understood before." 
 
 Richarda shrank from him. " Yes, it was 
 cruel cruel. But isn't that the way some- 
 times with doing what you think is right ? There 
 seems always to be a wrong in it." 
 
 " Is that different from what I have taught 
 my students ? " asked Maxwell. 
 
 Her change of manner was swift ; in an in- 
 stant she was his accuser again. 
 
 " Different ? As different as light from 
 day. You know that. You know that your 
 method has been to ridicule right and wrong to 
 371
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 your students. You know that you have led 
 them to believe that what we commonly call 
 right or wrong is a mere difference of opinion 
 that there is inherently no such thing as 
 right or wrong. Perhaps there is not. But 
 I want to ask you what your theories have 
 done for Jack. Have they helped to make him 
 strong when he needed to be strong? You 
 know they have not. You know they have only 
 helped to weaken him when he came in contact 
 with temptation. Oh, what is the use of talk- 
 ing to you? You will not care. You can 
 never understand how dreadful all this has been 
 to me how I have suffered. I wanted to do 
 so much, and I have done nothing. I wanted 
 Jack to be good I wanted to be glad that he 
 was alive. And as long as he was with me he 
 was good. I don't think that he could have 
 been anything else he knew that I loved him 
 so. He knew that I cared so though he 
 never knew why." 
 
 " I should like to know why you think you 
 cared," said Maxwell coldly. Something in this 
 woman roused all his bitterness this woman 
 who did impossible things, and did not seem to 
 know that they were impossible. But she 
 roused something else also. 
 372
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda turned a wonderfully clear gaze 
 upon him. " Why should I tell you? You 
 would never understand. You would only 
 laugh. You don't believe in the things that I 
 believe in." 
 
 " How can you know if you do not tell me 
 what they are ? " 
 
 She hesitated ; then she shook her head. 
 " No, I cannot talk of that. That only has to 
 do with " she checked herself. " Oh, I am 
 afraid I have done all wrong. But I have 
 loved my life so. Can't you understand 
 that? " 
 
 Maxwell said nothing. 
 
 " But I have suffered so," she went on, almost 
 in a whisper. It was a cry Maxwell saw 
 that it was wrung from her unconsciously. 
 " And there is more. Because I have failed. 
 All those years ever since he was a little boy 
 everything that I did for him, I did with the 
 hope that I should be able to make him strong 
 against the coming of that time when he might 
 first feel what it was perhaps in his blood to 
 feel. And you what did you do to help 
 me? " She looked straight at Maxwell. " In 
 his delirium " 
 
 " It is generally admitted that the best f el- 
 373
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 lows say the worst things when they're deliri- 
 ous, I believe," observed Maxwell. 
 
 " Then if Jack was speaking for you, Dr. 
 Maxwell, which he appeared to be, I have every 
 reason to have the highest opinion of you," 
 flashed Richarda. 
 
 Maxwell laughed. But Richarda hardly 
 noticed that. 
 
 " What am I to do ? Where am I to begin 
 again? " she asked. " Everything that I tried 
 to do is undone." 
 
 " I don't quite see that," said Maxwell slowly. 
 
 "No that is just it. You don't see it." 
 
 There was a little silence ; then Maxwell spoke. 
 " I think perhaps you don't understand " 
 
 Richarda broke in impetuously. " Oh, don't 
 say that to me. I know I don't understand. 
 My life has been full of things that I didn't un- 
 derstand." 
 
 Maxwell did not reply; he seemed to have 
 relapsed suddenly into one of his heaviest, most 
 abstracted moods. The air of gay boyishness 
 which was the first thing Richarda had noticed 
 about him when she came into the room, had 
 gone; the man she looked at now was one upon 
 whose face experience had left the print of its 
 heel. He was no longer smoking, and in his 
 374
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 silence and immobility she caught the impres- 
 sion of a strange isolation the isolation of 
 one who has been set outside the happy common- 
 place Eden of life by some power that wrought 
 in him to destroy. 
 
 It was not until she moved to put on her 
 gloves, that Maxwell spoke. 
 
 " You have told me your story. I will tell 
 you mine. It is true that I have had no faith 
 in women. I married young, and I had as 
 many illusions as you had, I suppose. I loved 
 my wife it's a curse to me to remember how 
 I loved her it's hell. I was a fool I was 
 so happy. And so was she. Yes, she was 
 happy, until " he stopped a moment " the 
 man was my best friend and she went away 
 with him the man who knew better than any- 
 one else, except herself, how I loved her. That's 
 all. It isn't much to tell. But it has taken a 
 long time to live. And it has made me what I 
 am." He thought a little ; then he added. " No, 
 it has made me what I chose to let it make me." 
 
 Richarda broke into tears ; there was such a 
 forlorn quality in this tragedy in its simplic- 
 ity and suppression of detail. 
 
 " It seems to be ruin everywhere," she said 
 hopelessly. " Ruin for you and ruin for me." 
 375
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Ruin for you ? " repeated Maxwell. " And 
 yet you say that boy has been at death's door 
 over this business?" 
 
 Richarda looked at him, perplexed. 
 
 " My little woman " His voice grew 
 strangely tender " don't you understand ? 
 This is your day of triumph. Don't you see 
 that it is because of what you have taught him, 
 that he is the wreck that he is that he has 
 suffered as he has, and as he will suffer? Have 
 you any right to ask more than that? " 
 
 The stern coercion of the life of the spirit 
 it was the heritage of his Scottish blood in the 
 supreme moment it conquered the bitterness and 
 the unbelief that a woman's falseness had engen- 
 dered in him in this man, destined to have 
 been made strong by the love of wife, of chil- 
 dren, of home. He stood revealed, in the self 
 that was rightly his, before this woman whose 
 simple unconsciousness of the magnitude of 
 her loyalty to the man she loved, had compelled 
 from him a tribute that was a witness to his own 
 inviolable faith. 
 
 He took her down to the carriage that waited 
 for her when he came back to his empty 
 room, he stared about it, desolate. For the first 
 time in long years, a woman had come nigh him 
 as only a woman could. 
 
 376
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He looked at the empty chair in which she 
 had sat her handkerchief lay dropped beside 
 it; he picked it up, the faintly perfumed trifle, 
 and stood with it, there, in his hand, strangely 
 helpless. For it spoke to him of things forgot- 
 ten, denied; of things accursed in his memory. 
 
 He laid it down gently, and buried his face 
 in his hands. 
 
 377
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 " But the boy is better," said Dawson. 
 
 " Yes," said Richarda. 
 
 " Then what why aren't you in fact, 
 what is the trouble? " 
 
 "The trouble?" 
 
 Dawson looked at her. Then he continued: 
 " You see, I've been talking to Jack. He says 
 nothing, and neither do you, but just to look at 
 you well, do you suppose, for instance, that 
 it's exhilarating to Homfrey to see you looking 
 as if you were being worried into your grave, 
 and not to know why ? " 
 
 " Tim ! But I've tried " 
 
 " Yes, you've tried hard enough, the Lord 
 knows. But don't you think now it's about 
 time to stop trying? " 
 
 "To stop trying?" 
 
 " Yes. Has it never occurred to you that it 
 might not be the duty of one woman to bear 
 more than her just load? " 
 
 Richarda's colour rose. Then she said stiffly : 
 " I don't understand you, Mr, Dawson." 
 373
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " No. Well, what I mean is this. Some- 
 thing's wrong. It's this boy's mind that has 
 been ill. You know that, and I suppose you 
 knoAV why. Do you think I sat up there yester- 
 day with you two without arriving at some con- 
 clusions ? Oh, a great many ! " 
 
 " You are quite right," said Richarda calmly. 
 "Something is wrong. But it will come right." 
 She smiled at Dawson. 
 
 " I see." Dawson considered. Then he 
 looked at her very directly. " I may under- 
 stand, then, that at last, you mean to tell Tim? " 
 
 " Mean to tell Tim ? What has Jack's con- 
 dition to do with Tim?" 
 
 " What has it to do with Tim? Hasn't it 
 everything to do with Tim? " 
 
 " I don't know what you mean," said Ri- 
 charda. She did not, but she grew slowly 
 white. 
 
 Dawson was conscious at this moment of a 
 strange sternness, which arose from his tender- 
 ness for this woman who had done as she had, 
 God only knew for what reason. The whole 
 thing was outrageous, impossible, incomprehen- 
 sible. It was a most specious form of self-de- 
 ceit it was 
 
 " I mean this," he said sharply. " I mean 
 379
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 that it's time for you to tell your husband who 
 Jack is." 
 
 Richarda sat quite still not a quiver dis- 
 turbed her face, or her hands lightly clasped in 
 her lap. The shock was too great ; for the mo- 
 ment everything was dead in her. 
 
 Dawson got up and went over to her he 
 felt confused and ashamed. Yet he had done 
 the right thing the only sane thing to do. 
 He was sure of that. Her view, whatever it 
 was, was all wrong. It was distorted, hyster- 
 ical the view of a woman 
 
 " Mrs. Homfrey ! " it was an entreaty 
 yet he did not know what he sought. 
 
 Richarda looked at him - there was no sur- 
 render in her face. 
 
 " I couldn't help it," he stammered. " I've 
 always known I should tell you sometime. I 
 didn't try to find out. It just happened 
 that night, you remember when Jack came in 
 from Waverley 
 
 She remembered. 
 
 " I couldn't help myself. They looked at 
 each other, and I saw it all in a moment I 
 couldn't understand why they didn't see it for 
 themselves. I've felt like a sneak ever since." 
 
 And still Richarda said nothing. 
 380
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Oh please ! don't you see that we must 
 look at these things in a reasonable way? If 
 they are, they are, and we must face them. And 
 perhaps I can help you." 
 
 Richarda looked up from the midst of her 
 agony of humiliation that humiliation from 
 which she had spent her life in defending her- 
 self. 
 
 " You are very good, Mr. Dawson. But I 
 wish no help from anyone." 
 
 He sat down beside her against her will he 
 took her struggling hands in his big, quiet ones. 
 
 " My child, someone must help you. You've 
 been a brave long time coming to the place where 
 you are now, but you're there. And I'd despise 
 myself if I let you take another step alone. I'm 
 going to stand by you now as I would want 
 Homfrey to stand by Sarah in the same case. 
 Child, I know how Homfrey has felt about this 
 boy being back on you again sick in your 
 home, and you giving yourself up to him like 
 a mother. I've never seen Homfrey in the state 
 he was in, in the office this morning. It won't 
 do, my girl. We've got to get the air cleared, 
 and there's only one way now to do it." 
 
 Richarda stood up she looked as if she 
 needed a wide space. 
 
 381
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " If you mean if you mean that I No, 
 I will never do that. It is not for you to dictate 
 to me what I should do. What is your right to 
 come between me and my husband? You do 
 not understand you do not know " 
 
 " Tell me," interposed Dawson gently 
 " What is the trouble with the boy? " 
 
 The question came so quickly, so quietly; be- 
 fore she knew it Richarda answered; perhaps 
 it was an unconscious relief to her to speak, for 
 away, deep in her soul, she felt so weak. He 
 listened while she told him as little as she could, 
 and that incoherently; then, with one question 
 and another, he led her on, until he understood 
 sufficiently, the whole story. 
 
 " You see," she said at last, looking at him 
 anxiously : " It is a terrible question. Is it, 
 or is it not right, to tell Mr. Hutchinson? It 
 will spoil his life, and knowing that he is re- 
 sponsible for that, will spoil Jack's. And yet 
 he insists that he will tell him that he must. 
 It seems to me I ought to know what is right, 
 but I don't. I don't seem to understand clearly 
 about things any more. I can't see as Jack 
 does that Mr. Hutchinson must be told. He 
 says to that, that I do not know Mr. Hutchin- 
 son." 
 
 382
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 She was very white and wan she no longer 
 sought to evade the truth of the situation. 
 
 It was such wistful pleading. 
 
 " That's quite a question. On the face of it, 
 I should call the idea absurd," said Dawson, ab- 
 sently. " But the boy it's such hard lines 
 for the boy. It always has been. Child, did 
 you never think, that sooner or later, the price 
 had to be paid ? " 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears. " But I thought 
 I was paying it." 
 
 " The debt was not yours to pay." 
 
 " I don't see that," she said desperately. 
 " And yet now it seems so. But I don't under- 
 stand why. I know it has been all wrong for 
 Jack. But I could not have done other than I 
 did. I am not a good enough woman to be able 
 to bear that Tim should know that I knew. I 
 do not know what I should have done. And be- 
 sides, do you think that it would have been bet- 
 ter for Jack would Tim have loved him as I 
 have loved him, if he had looked at him always 
 as the cause of the sorrow that had come between 
 us ? " She looked at Dawson in sudden defi- 
 ance. " I have done right. There was no 
 other way. And it must remain the way." 
 
 " In spite of the fact, that every time you 
 383
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 see me with Homfrey, you will know that / 
 know, what he does not ? " 
 
 Dawson spoke gently ; his heart was dis- 
 tressed for this woman. But while she had 
 talked, he had listened and thought. There 
 was only one way to influence her; she had no 
 fear of suffering she could never be reached 
 by any appeal for the easing of her own lot. 
 
 She looked at him, mute. 
 
 " Don't you see ' the words dragged 
 Dawson shrank from the task before him 
 " have you never thought that perhaps, in all 
 this, you did as you did, because, after all, you 
 loved your own way best because you were 
 determined at any cost, to maintain an appear- 
 ance of things which did not really exist ? 
 because of your pride, which refused to be 
 hurt? " 
 
 Richarda drew back. 
 
 But Dawson went on ; he had never been in 
 battle, but he thought he knew how men felt 
 when they faced the black mouths of the can- 
 non. 
 
 " It seems to me, that in this whole matter, 
 you have seen solely one side of the ques- 
 tion." 
 
 " I ? only one side of the question ? " 
 384
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Yes, child. To begin with, I think you 
 left Tim entirely out of consideration." 
 
 "Tim?" 
 
 " Yes Tim." Dawson's tone changed. 
 " What right have you to deny nobility equal 
 to your own, to Tim? What right had you 
 to withhold from him the opportunity of rising 
 to the highest that was in him? What right 
 had you to assume that he would act unworthily 
 that he would be less than just, and willing 
 to bear the burden of his own acts? Did you 
 never once think, when you undertook to play 
 the part of Providence with these lives, that per- 
 haps you did not understand just what dis- 
 cipline Tim most needed to bring out all that 
 was finest in him? Did you have no fears when 
 you put out your hand to arrest the just work- 
 ing out of the natural laws of retribution 
 did you have no fears as to the ultimate vio- 
 lence of re-adjustment that your interference 
 would entail ? " 
 
 Richarda did not take her eyes from Daw- 
 son's face ; she felt as if the walls of life's little 
 room were slowly drawing in upon her, and she 
 was quietly watching, fascinated, with, far back 
 in her mind, a wonder as to whether it hurt, 
 when they crushed you close, closer. 
 385
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " And the boy Jack had you any right to 
 deny to him the father who is as much his, as 
 he is your boy's? Was your goodness enough 
 to atone for the cruel confusion of mind in 
 which this' boy has grown up ? with no sense 
 of belonging, or beginning, or ending any- 
 where ; feeling himself dishonoured with 
 not even a name that he had a right to." 
 
 " You mustn't talk to me like this," said 
 Richarda. " I can't bear it." 
 
 " But you must bear it. Think of that boy, 
 needing a father's strong guidance more than 
 most and above all the guidance of a father 
 who might have saved him, as you never could, 
 from just this. Because he would have known 
 what you never can know what was in the 
 boy's blood. And think what it would have 
 been to Homfrey to know that you were ready 
 to work with him for this boy. Think of the 
 effect upon him, in all these years, of knowing 
 that you made the boy yours, because he was 
 his! And think of the effect upon the boy of 
 knowing himself acknowledged the shame of 
 it and all and of knowing that behind him 
 there stood a man such a man as Homfrey 
 who owned him as son! Child, the boy 
 would never have stood where he stands to- 
 day " 
 
 386
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Then you think I cared for nothing but 
 you think I was a selfish woman you 
 think " but Richarda could say no more. 
 
 Dawson's eyes grew suddenly misty. " Did 
 I say I thought you were that ? " 
 
 " But I was. I am. I didn't mean to be, 
 though." 
 
 Dawson turned his head away. 
 
 Then he took her hand in his ; he covered it 
 with his own as a father might. 
 
 " Dear child, all I want to say is : Give 
 Homfrey a chance give him a chance now to 
 show you what's in him. And give Jack a 
 chance. It's a man now that has to take hold 
 of him. It will be a big sacrifice for you, but 
 you must make it for Tim's sake." 
 
 After Dawson had gone, Richarda went to 
 Jack's room ; she had been away from him a long 
 time all the morning at Waverley, and now 
 through this long talk with Dawson. She felt 
 strangely calm, though oppressed by an odd 
 idea that terrible things were happening to that 
 outside self, Richarda. Poor Richarda! she 
 was sorry for her. 
 
 She listened curiously to her own conversa- 
 tion with Jack; sometimes he seemed to look at 
 387
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 her in a perplexed way. When she got up to 
 leave him on the plea that she must get dressed 
 for dinner, he detained her. 
 
 " I want you to post this for me " he held 
 out a letter. " You see, it's to Hutchinson. I 
 must see him." 
 
 " Oh Jack ! " 
 
 But his lips set in a firm line. 
 
 " Very well," she said faintly. 
 
 She carried the letter to her own room, and 
 set it up on the mantel-piece, the address to the 
 wall. 
 
 As she dressed, she was suddenly conscious 
 of a passionate desire to look sweet to Tim to- 
 night; when she was ready, she studied herself 
 in the cheval glass it was a girlishly slim and 
 elegant Richarda who eyed her there as re- 
 motely as a pictured woman might. 
 
 She heard Homfrey's step in the hall, and ran 
 down to meet him. " Oh Tim ! " she held up 
 her lips to him. 
 
 He kissed her somewhat coldly, wondering 
 what new mood was this that dominated her. 
 But he could wait; it would doubtless develop 
 ultimately to his tormenting. 
 
 Yet he kissed her again, perhaps driven to do 
 so by the remembrance of some things he had 
 388
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 said to Dawson that morning, or perhaps merely 
 because she looked at him with such compelling 
 sweetness. 
 
 As he got ready for dinner, he watched her 
 from his window ; she was in the garden, playing 
 ball with Dick like any child. There was irre- 
 pressible youth in Richarda it seemed to him 
 often as if an arresting finger had been laid 
 upon certain phases and moods of her girlhood. 
 Marriage and motherhood had left her curi- 
 ously untouched in some directions in which they 
 affected the usual woman most obviously. And 
 she was distinctly the reverse of the type of 
 woman who is first absorbed by her husband, 
 and later, by her sons. 
 
 In his home she ruled he never crossed his 
 door-step without feeling that he entered her 
 domain. She ruled there as a determining per- 
 sonality, yet she claimed nothing. 
 
 Homfrey smiled ; after all, it was a not insig- 
 nificant part of that for which a man loved a 
 woman the luxury of feeling himself the vic- 
 tim of her caprices. 
 
 Late in her own room that night, after she had 
 parted with her husband, Richarda toyed with 
 the process of settling herself to sleep. She 
 389
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 went back to her dressing-table and began to 
 do up her hair again, and then smiled at her 
 own foolishness. She wished she had not un- 
 dressed, so that she might see just how she had 
 looked to Homfrey through that long, happy 
 evening. 
 
 Unconsciously, she was clinging to that rem- 
 nant of girlhood which Homfrey perceived in 
 her, but which she felt often of late was soon to 
 pass. She did not want to understand the pas- 
 sion that had entered into her after Dawson had 
 left her; for once, and as she felt vaguely, for 
 the last time, she had freed herself as her na- 
 ture demanded ; she had taken up her life again 
 where she had left it when Minnie Barstow en- 
 tered into it ; for once, Homfrey had seen 
 her and would always be able to remember her 
 as she might have been. Unconscious of the 
 meaning of her mood, she had sought to bind 
 him to herself with all those arts of allurement 
 old as the hearts of men and women. For some- 
 thing terrible loomed before her; cold, cruel, 
 separating as death. It willed to take Homfrey 
 from her to destroy forever the beauty and 
 the unity of their love. 
 
 What had Dawson said? that she had en- 
 deavoured at any cost, to maintain an appear- 
 390
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 ance of things which did not really exist, because 
 her pride refused to be hurt ! 
 
 " What a lie ! " she said aloud. As if her 
 pride had not suffered ! But Dawson could 
 never understand that. It did not matter. 
 
 But her tears came suddenly ; it was such hu- 
 miliation to her that Dawson should know ; it was 
 cruel that her secret could not remain her own. 
 
 But now Maxwell knew ! yes, but that was 
 different. Maxwell lived a life which had no 
 connection with hers and her husband's. 
 
 Yet the more she argued, the more troubled 
 she became. She knew that before now, no excuse 
 would have seemed to her sufficient to induce her 
 to speak to another of what concerned her hus- 
 band. 
 
 What was happening to her ? she felt a 
 sudden terror as a perception flashed upon her 
 that everything was moving to force her in one 
 direction that she herself was weakening 
 that something that she had conquered all these 
 years was at last getting the mastery of her. 
 
 She was so tired ; it had been an endless day ; 
 she had had no time to think calmly not even 
 while returning from Waverley in the train. 
 That poor Maxwell! It all sounded very long 
 ago as she tried to recall her talk with him. It 
 391
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 was strange that she had mustered the courage 
 to go to see him ; the reason was rather insuffi- 
 cient, she thought now. Yet only this morning 
 it appeared to her overwhelming. 
 
 What right had Dawson to interfere? If she 
 had asked his advice, he might have had some 
 justification for his attack upon her. She 
 would have to reckon with him in the future, 
 but she was not going to think of that now. 
 
 She was so tired ; she must go to sleep, and in 
 the morning she would be able to understand all 
 that had happened to-day ; she would know what 
 to do. These troublesome questions would ad- 
 just themselves if they were quietly left alone; 
 it was getting in a hurry to do something, that 
 led to complications. 
 
 She sat down she was trembling. But 
 that was not to be wondered at; she reminded 
 herself that she was not a strong woman, and 
 lately she had been continually over-taxed. She 
 looked aimlessly about the room Oh, there 
 was that letter to Hutchinson ! she had not 
 posted it. 
 
 She could not take her eyes from it; it fas- 
 cinated her. That letter meant more trouble. 
 She must post it but how could she ? What 
 would happen? And what was right? the 
 392
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 longer she thought about that the more hope- 
 lessly confused she became. 
 
 Poor Jack! If he only had someone to ad- 
 vise him who knew No ! she pulled herself 
 together sharply. Jack must be a man must 
 stand on his own feet. Besides, he had her; she 
 was not going to desert him. 
 
 But Hutchinson What would he do when 
 he knew ? she wished she could keep that ques- 
 tion out of her head. At any rate, she must 
 not post that letter until she had had time and 
 quiet to think the matter out. It was easy to 
 make life unnecessarily difficult; everyone did 
 that Maxwell, Dawson, and now Jack. Ten 
 years from now all this would be settled, and 
 would seem no doubt of comparative unimpor- 
 tance. 
 
 Would it ? a question like this ? 
 
 She looked at her bed, all smooth and white; 
 many a night, at this hour she had lain there un- 
 troubled. But to-night she was too restless to 
 sleep. 
 
 What had Dawson said ? that she had left 
 Tim entirely out of consideration? What an 
 incredible thing to accuse her of! 
 
 But that was not all he had said many 
 other things ; she beat the remembrance of them 
 away from her. 
 
 393
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Yet she knew, and that was why she faced the 
 night sleepless, that the futile pretences behind 
 which she had barricaded herself were giving 
 way; that the fight was upon her. And she 
 was not to conquer. The ideals for which she 
 had sacrificed her happiness were not to triumph ; 
 they had been wrong selfish and distorted. 
 Dawson had said so. 
 
 It was cruel ! she dropped her face in her 
 hands and began to cry. It was to be taken 
 from her that which she had loved above all 
 else. No; it was not to be taken from her 
 she herself must give it up. It seemed that she 
 had not believed in Tim as another woman might 
 have that she had not trusted his sense of 
 justice that she had denied to him the great 
 opportunity. 
 
 And Jack? she had ignored his claim 
 she had appraised her devotion as fit equivalent 
 of that which she refused him. If she had been 
 true and unafraid but she had been a coward. 
 
 She a coward I Would Tim think that? 
 Would all that she had done mean nothing to 
 him? 
 
 Ah ! She had always known that it was some 
 day coming to this away, deep in her heart, 
 she had always known that there was a time set 
 394
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 but she had held it as far away from her as 
 the thought of eternity. She had spent her life 
 fighting the conviction. 
 
 At last she understood. 
 
 She was to tell Tim. And she was to tell him 
 to-night. Yes, to-night. It seemed to her 
 that there could never be a to-morrow. She 
 must not wait a moment she got up from her 
 chair then she sat down again, and put her 
 hand wearily to her head. She wondered con- 
 fusedly why there was any need of such hurry. 
 She would like to wait until she felt but then 
 she began to sob terrible sobs the harsh 
 sound of them frightened her; she hushed her- 
 self violently. 
 
 But they began again; she could not still 
 them, and that was Tim knocking what was 
 she to do? 
 
 She knew she opened the door. 
 
 " Richarda, dearest, what is the matter? I 
 heard you what is it? " 
 
 The sight of him stunned her into calmness. 
 " Haven't you gone to bed? " she asked in a dry 
 whisper. 
 
 " No. I've been reading. But " 
 
 He must not look at her like that must not 
 speak to her like that. For he did so, believing 
 395
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 her what she was not believing her true to 
 him. And she had not been true she had 
 given him no chance . She was sobbing again 
 
 those strange sobs that hurt her and Hom- 
 frey 
 
 " No, Tim ! " She held him away from her. 
 " Tim, I've got to tell you something. It's 
 about " she paused, striving for calmness 
 " it's about Jack." 
 
 Homfrey stood back. 
 
 " You you must help him. He needs you 
 
 he's in great trouble. I have not been good 
 to him, Tim." 
 
 Tell him! it was the single cry in her ears ; 
 she struggled against it, and with it, and for it. 
 But the words would not come. After all, why 
 should they? She had only to say to her hus- 
 band : " I love you, and I will let this boy go," 
 and all would be well; there would be no more 
 questions for her to answer. 
 
 But in the instant of this thought, she said: 
 " Tim, listen to me and help me. It's all 
 terrible, and cruel, and wrong. And I have 
 made it so. And Jack " 
 
 " Don't speak of that boy to me, Charda." 
 
 " I must speak of him." She was suddenly 
 calm. " I want to tell you what he has done 
 396
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 before I tell you any more, for there is more. 
 But before you hear it, I want you to know the 
 worst of Jack. I want you to know before 
 not afterwards." 
 
 " The boy is no concern of mine, except that 
 he is a torment to you, and as I say, Charda " 
 
 " Tim you must listen to me." 
 
 Homfrey sat down. " I see you are as de- 
 termined as you always have been in this mat- 
 ter," he said coldly. 
 
 She hardly seemed to hear him ; she began to 
 speak at once, and quietly, as if in continuation 
 of her thoughts. 
 
 " You see, when I sent Jack away to college, 
 I was glad, after a while, to feel that I was 
 going to be free of him. I wanted just you 
 and Dick. I tried to stop thinking about him 
 I let him feel that I had loosened my hold of 
 him. When he needed me most, I let him under- 
 stand well, what he thought was that I 
 wanted to be rid of him." 
 
 There was a muttered exclamation from 
 Homfrey. 
 
 " And he came under other influences not 
 
 good influences. Tim I don't know how 
 
 you see, there was a girl there she is not a 
 
 good girl and Jack " she stopped ; the 
 
 397
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 look in her eyes demanded of Homfrey that he 
 should help her. 
 
 " In short, I am to understand the common 
 story, where there is a girl, not a good girl, and 
 a boy, not a " 
 
 " You are not to understand that." Ri- 
 charda spoke in a tone that evoked a flash in 
 Homfrey's face. " There is everything in this 
 story to make it uncommon. Jack is free of the 
 girl. But she has married his best friend, who 
 believes her good, and Jack it has made him 
 ill. And now he says he must tell Hutchinson." 
 
 Homfrey got up. " Charda, let us under- 
 stand each other, here and now. To-morrow, 
 that boy will leave my house and he will leave 
 it for all time. You have not hesitated to set 
 him and his interests above me and mine. You 
 brought him, the son of God knows whom, into 
 our home you insisted upon treating him as 
 if he were my son you have defied me at every 
 point where he has been concerned, and yet to- 
 night, you tell me this story. You forget that 
 I told you, years ago, that this boy's blood 
 would tell, and now " 
 
 " Hush ! " Richarda's voice was like the si- 
 lent falling of snow " You must not say that, 
 Tim. Because that is what I have to tell 
 398
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 you I mean what I have to tell you about 
 about this boy, whom I have treated as 
 if " but now her voice shook helplessly ; her 
 fear was such as she had never dreamed possible 
 to her " Tim " she caught Homf rey's arm 
 " be good to me, Tim don't be angry 
 because if if I have treated Jack as though 
 he were your son Oh Tim ! that was be- 
 cause he is yours he is your son." 
 
 She continued looking at Homfrey, but she 
 did not see his face ; a thick darkness came upon 
 her. And the sound in her ears was like the 
 breaking of her heart. 
 
 " Charda." 
 
 She tried to look up. 
 
 " Charda." 
 
 " But it is true," she whispered. 
 
 " Is it? Then I should like to ask " 
 
 " Yes, of course, Tim." There were tears 
 in her eyes now. " You see, Minnie Bars- 
 tow " 
 
 "Minnie Barstow?" 
 
 " Oh yes. And Mr. Dawson why, he 
 knows." 
 
 " Dawson knows what, Richarda ?" 
 
 " Tim don't you see that Jack Oh, now 
 that you know " 
 
 399
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Homfrey was silent; she saw a change in his 
 face. 
 
 "Don't you see? " she pleaded: "That 
 is why he is so like you don't you under- 
 stand " 
 
 Homfrey held up his hand ; she realized, that 
 at this moment, he could not bear another word. 
 But she could not see him suffer alone. She 
 knelt beside him. 
 
 " Oh Tim," she moaned, " I have not been 
 fair to you. I have not loved you as I might 
 have. But I did not understand. I wanted you 
 never to know. I wanted to think you every- 
 thing that I had believed you were. I could 
 not bear anything else. But that was all wrong. 
 I kept you from Jack it was all selfish. But 
 now you will " 
 
 Homfrey set her back from him ; his face was 
 drawn it semed to her that he grew old as she 
 looked at him. 
 
 " I must understand," he said coldly. " Just 
 now, you spoke of Minnie Barstow." 
 
 She turned suddenly faint. 
 
 " Tim don't ! I can't bear it." 
 
 The sound of that name upon his lips this 
 was the agony from which she had shrunk 
 which she had spent years of passionate en- 
 deavour in seeking to escape. 
 400
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " I can't." She sank into a chair. " You 
 mustn't ask me." Her eyes flamed. " Don't 
 you understand ? there are some things that 
 are impossible." 
 
 Homfrey turned his face from her. 
 
 She looked at him, and her feeling of weak- 
 ness passed ; she felt a strange elation. So high 
 ran the tide of her anger against him. And it 
 was good to feel this storm in her blood ; she 
 luxuriated in it, as one free to take deep breaths 
 of life after black-winged suffocation has hov- 
 ered close. It was well that he knew well 
 that he understood at last what high right she 
 had to anger. Minnie Barstow! her ears 
 ached with the sound of that name as he had said 
 it. How dare he speak it to her? and there 
 he sat, unmoved, after she had told him such 
 a thing as this ! 
 
 To say nothing to offer not one word! 
 she felt choked; with a sharp movement she 
 stood up, and went to the open window. It 
 must be long after midnight, but the moon was 
 shining somewhere, and the garden in its misty 
 radiance looked as if the stars had taken root in 
 earth, and were bringing forth silvered blade 
 and leaf and bud. And the air was sweet, so 
 heavenly sweet that something stirred in her 
 401
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 something that she had no wish just then to feel. 
 She drew back ; this was no moment to look out 
 on a scene like that; she was not seeking poetic 
 inspiration. 
 
 " Charda ! " She turned with a start ; Hom- 
 frey was standing beside her. " I think you 
 must see that having told me what you have, 
 you must tell me more. Minnie Barstow " 
 
 Her gesture was sufficient. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said simply ; he 
 turned to the door. 
 
 There was nothing to say ; Richarda was quite 
 clear as to that, yet she caught herself wonder- 
 ing how he was to know what he rightly desired 
 to know, if she did not tell him. Did she wish 
 Dawson but she had no time to think that 
 out. For Homfrey was going; that he could 
 leave her now implied definite acknowledgment 
 of what at this moment, she most unreasonably 
 desired him to ignore, and his manner suggested 
 some decision, quick, irrevocable. Even now he 
 was master; she had a confused sense of herself 
 as the one in disgrace. It was intolerable 
 cruel. 
 
 Yet before he reached the door she was beside 
 him. 
 
 "Tim you musn't leave me like that. I 
 402
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 can't bear it. I know I must tell you no 
 one else can. But it's hard. Don't you know 
 that? " 
 
 He said nothing he only looked at her in 
 that strange way ; it would be so much easier if 
 he would say one tender word to her. But no! 
 he stood off as if she did not belong to him. 
 A sob rose in her throat. But she must not 
 think of all that now ; there would be time 
 enough. She must do the thing she had re- 
 solved upon without flinching. Besides there 
 was Jack. 
 
 " I'll tell you," she began in a voice that she 
 could not keep unshaken. " It happened when 
 you went away long ago you remember. 
 She came to see me just before I was going to 
 New York to meet you. 
 
 " She told me there had been the child, but she 
 had not known where you were. And I think 
 in a way she was proud, and she was able 
 through a friend to keep anyone from knowing. 
 She was sent here as a manager in Heusel's, and 
 one day, she saw you. Then she found out 
 about me, and when she had a chance to marry, 
 she wanted to make sure that she could do so 
 without any fear of her husband's ever hearing 
 about the child. And yet she wanted to be sure 
 403
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 that he would be cared for " Richarda sighed, 
 and paused a moment " and she thought he 
 would be if he was brought up in our home. 
 So she asked me to take him. She said that if I 
 did not, she would go to you." She waited 
 again; there was frightened appeal in the 
 glance she gave her husband. " I took him, 
 Tim." 
 
 And still Homfrey said nothing; he did not 
 even look at her. It was more than she knew 
 how to bear she hid her face in her hands. 
 
 The door closed ; he was gone. But presently 
 he would come back ; he would tell her all that 
 she was longing to hear. It was terribly hard 
 for him she understood that she would not 
 forget it. He was a proud man ; he would feel 
 humiliated in all sorts of ways perhaps she 
 had not sufficiently realised that. 
 
 He did not come. She made a great effort to 
 be calm; she must give him time; she must try 
 to understand just how this revelation was af- 
 fecting him. But the longer she reasoned, the 
 more confused and frightened she became; the 
 surer she grew that her part in the matter might 
 not recommend itself to him. She began to cry 
 her mind closed to everything but a hopeless 
 sense of her own misery. He was here, under 
 404
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the roof of their home, but away from her, 
 thinking about that Minnie Barstow, and this 
 boy Jack, his son. It was cruel. 
 
 She waited still, her ear strained for a sound. 
 Another hour passed another ; she threw her- 
 self upon her bed. She had cried until she 
 could cry no more; she felt herself grow slowly 
 numb then she slept. 
 
 When she awoke it was to an instant sense of 
 disaster, as if something had fallen in ruins 
 about her during the night. But she did not 
 stop to think of that now ; she threw on her 
 dressing-gown and hurried to Jack's room. He 
 was awake and greeted her with a wan smile; it 
 frightened her to see how haggard he looked. 
 
 " Oh Jack, you haven't slept," she said re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 " Yes a little." He looked at her. " Did 
 you ? Because, I thought or did I dream 
 that? " 
 
 Her lip quivered. " You dreamt it, Jack." 
 She tried to smile. 
 
 But he watched the shaking of her hand as 
 she poured his medicine into the glass, and he 
 knew. That was his doing what he had 
 heard; his doing, the suffering that showed in 
 her face. He had no excuse for getting better ; 
 405
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 the only decent thing he could have done was to 
 die. 
 
 " You shall have your breakfast presently," 
 she said she laid her hand lightly on his fore- 
 head. An impulse dominated her to make Jack 
 feel himself hers more surely than ever before 
 while she yet had time. 
 
 " No Lady, I'll get up," he protested, weakly 
 remonstrant. 
 
 She looked over her shoulder at him. " No." 
 There was such sweetness of command in her 
 tone that he laughed and could have wept. 
 
 Richarda went back to her room, and began 
 mechanically to dress. Another day had begun ; 
 she must live it through before her household 
 with dignity. Her pride rose and stiffened the 
 limp blood in her veins she would show her- 
 self strong. 
 
 But all the while she was listening listen- 
 ing. 
 
 When Homfrey left his wife he went back to 
 his room and sat down as he had been sitting 
 when he heard the sound which made him won- 
 der, and then feel alarm. He picked up the 
 book he had thrown hurriedly on the table; 
 straightened the pages carefully, and closed it. 
 406
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Then he sat still, looking before him with the 
 gaze of a man seeking to identify something a 
 long way off. 
 
 This and that ; slowly painfully, one 
 memory after another assumed shape, substance. 
 
 That girl ! 
 
 In all these years he had hardly thought once 
 of her. She had come into his life for a mo- 
 ment, and gone out of it along with other experi- 
 ences upon which marriage had turned for him 
 the key. 
 
 And yet she had borne him a child ! 
 
 A strange feeling of nauseation unsteadied 
 him he gripped his chair hard. And then he 
 found himself recalling the sound of a falling 
 rain-drop on the window-sill a sound reaching 
 him at this crisis from those far-off childish 
 days when it had tortured him into restless 
 wakefulness, with the wonder whether it would 
 ever stop. He looked at the palms of his hands 
 they were wet, just as they used to get then 
 with the fear that that rain-drop never would 
 stop falling. 
 
 That this should have happened to him, Hom- 
 
 f rey ! it was intolerable. He felt with an 
 
 acute sense of resentment that there was little 
 
 connection between himself and the boy of his 
 
 407
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 reckless student days, and yet this Nemesis of a 
 forgotten folly had dogged his unsuspecting 
 steps all these long years, to lay clutch upon 
 him now ; to humiliate him in his own sight ; to 
 overwhelm him with contempt, disgust, for the 
 boy who had been as surely Timothy Homfrey 
 then, as he was Timothy Homfrey now. 
 
 He lighted a cigar smoked it for a few 
 moments ; then threw it far out of the window, 
 and with his hands clenched began to pace the 
 room. But it was like a cage to him ; he would 
 get out and walk. 
 
 What good would that do ? a man could 
 not walk away from a fact like this. 
 
 It was there, beside him, grinning at him as 
 it had grinned all these years of the life which 
 he had lived with a certain subtle consciousness 
 of a temperamental elegance above that of his 
 neighbours. 
 
 That girl! a pretty, saucy, common piece 
 of flesh and blood no more, no less. He set 
 his teeth hard. And she had seen him, here in 
 the town where he had so soon achieved a name 
 for himself she had looked at him with the 
 thought of the bond between them, while he 
 passed, unsuspecting; she had made her plan in 
 that moment, perhaps, to hand over to him the 
 boy, 
 
 408
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He drew back, as from a fire that scorched. 
 
 That boy ! he halted in his uneven tread. 
 
 The boy was here under his roof Minnie 
 Barstow's boy. 
 
 But he was called Homfrey. 
 
 He sat down he felt such strange exhaus- 
 tion. 
 
 Presently, with a great effort, he began to fit 
 together his memories of the boy; he saw him 
 again as the door had opened to let him in, 
 eighteen years before an innocent baby, seek- 
 ing in Richarda's eyes the only home he knew. 
 
 Richarda! he sprang to his feet he 
 reached the door. But he turned back. Ri- 
 charda was set immeasurable spaces away from 
 him. 
 
 That outcast child had been his ; he had not 
 known it, but she had, and she had opened 
 her arms to it. He recalled that first scene im- 
 mediately ; he could see his wife again in her 
 girlish grace, with the boy clinging to her; her 
 face seemed still to plead for him as it had done 
 then. The blood rushed to his finger-tips ; he 
 shrank from the shame which assailed him. 
 
 But he was no snivelling coward ; this matter 
 was his, and he must go through with it to the 
 end, whatever that might be. So with infinite 
 409
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 patience he persevered, and traced Jack from 
 one scene to another; it struck him for the first 
 time, that the boy's connection with him was set 
 in a series of definite appearances, from that 
 memorable one in Richarda's room after the 
 birth of Dick, to others, less dramatic perhaps, 
 but curiously significant to him now, until he 
 came to that night when Jack and he had at 
 last openly faced each other in mutual repudia- 
 tion and contempt. And that boy, whom he had 
 taunted, the more bitterly because he had felt 
 himself drawn to him more strongly than ever 
 before, by an intolerable fascination which al- 
 lured and mocked him that boy had been his 
 son! 
 
 An overwhelming desire to see him to look 
 at him critically to balance coolly points of 
 resemblance, swept him for a moment nearly off 
 his feet. It had maddened him, time and again, 
 to notice Jack's easy assumption of his little 
 personalities of speech and gesture it was a 
 species of impudence peculiarly offensive to him. 
 But those intimate tricks of resemblance were 
 the boy's birthright as much as the colour of 
 his eyes, the shape of his hands. 
 
 There was Dick, whose lack of resemblance to 
 him he had found so irritating; in him, some 
 410
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 strong leit-motif from other blood dominated at 
 the expense of the more complicated, elusive 
 strains which had made his own nature so fasci- 
 nating a study to Homfrey. 
 
 It was incredible that he had not understood. 
 But he had not ; that fact stared him in the face, 
 irrefragable evidence of a blindness in himself 
 which seemed inconceivable. 
 
 But there were depths before him yet to be 
 waded through ; he went on. In imagination, he 
 set before him the slight, eager, boyish figure ; he 
 looked at it long ; he re-read in it his own young 
 history, but with a crueller meaning. The sins 
 of the fathers even unto the third and fourth 
 generation his soul was filled with the bitter- 
 ness of a truth as everlasting as the hills. Not 
 for a moment did he seek to escape responsibility 
 for this boy's character it was of the very 
 stuff of his own. But Jack was to pay the 
 price. For him there was to be no smooth way 
 of escape. For Homfrey understood, as clearly 
 as Richarda had understood, the shame of Jack's 
 position. Either in his own tormented con- 
 sciousness, or in the wreck of this man Hutch- 
 inson's happiness, the boy was doomed to pay 
 for the sin of his father. 
 
 The darkness of night showed stealthily grey 
 411
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 at the window ; it was dawn, and he realised that 
 he had sat for hours, unstirring. But he had 
 hardly yet begun to think he knew that. He 
 felt himself without strength to approach the 
 agony that was before him. 
 
 Richarda ! he repeated her name as 
 helpless as some outcast, prostrate at the feet of 
 intercessory Virgin. It seemed to him that his 
 life henceforth would be but an attempt to un- 
 derstand what she had done, and why she had 
 done it. 
 
 He had spent years in analysing her as a deli- 
 cately intricate human, specimen; he understood 
 now that she was one with the mystery of Love, 
 rarely apprehended of man in its ultimate 
 beauty. He looked back over those torturing 
 years in which she had kept silence because 
 she loved him and he was dumb. 
 
 He heard again her agonised cry, in that 
 scene which it had baffled him to understand 
 even when it was explained as due to the phan- 
 tasies of a mind weakened temporarily by des- 
 perate illness: 
 
 " Tim, don't let me speak. I musn't. I 
 musn't." 
 
 She was set high above him ; but she was his 
 wife, and his heart began to make cry for the 
 412
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 woman beloved. He could not bear this alone. 
 But he could never ask her to forgive. Besides 
 all that was in the past, there was new suffering 
 before her, in the readjusting of his relation to 
 Jack. 
 
 And there was his son Dick to be faced he 
 had not thought of that. What would his po- 
 sition be henceforth in his own house, in and 
 out of which he had gone so light of step and of 
 conscience. 
 
 It all rested with Richarda. He was clinging 
 to the thought of her now, as the child Jack had 
 clung to her those long years ago. 
 
 He had made her his wife in the arrogance 
 of his strength to bear with distinction the expe- 
 riences that marriage might bring to him ; until 
 last night he had been secure in the faith that he 
 had done so. He had believed himself to have 
 controlled a difficult situation with infinite skill 
 and broad-minded justice few men would 
 have permitted to their wives such independence 
 of action and such unlimited right to personal 
 opinion as he had granted to Richarda. 
 
 But in the light of this revelation that com- 
 placent view of their relation underwent bewil- 
 dering change. After the manner of men, he 
 had married a maid, and straightway, she had 
 413
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 taken his life into her keeping, as hers, to 
 fashion it at whatsoever cost to herself, into a 
 thing of integrity. 
 
 But why did she not come to him now ? 
 how could she stay away when he needed her as 
 he had never needed her before? 
 
 He had had to leave her ; she must have under- 
 stood that his sense of shame and unworthiness 
 had been such as to drive him from her. 
 
 He tried at last to sleep, but his mind would 
 not stop remembering. How insanely jealous 
 he had been of Jack, and all the time her love 
 for the boy had been the highest manifestation 
 possible of her love for him. 
 
 It was hopelessly beyond his understanding. 
 Marriage to her had been the indissoluble bind- 
 ing of spirit with spirit, and she had maintained 
 the beauty of her ideal unscathed. 
 
 And this was the woman he had married with 
 light jest of love upon his lips ! 
 
 " Charda ! " he moaned, broken of soul. Her 
 life had been like a poem, a matter of the noblest 
 imagining, and he had lived his beside it, un- 
 hearing. 
 
 The household day had begun again ; he could 
 hear the servants busy about their duties. His 
 face had grown old and worn; he hardly recog- 
 414
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 nised it in the glass as his. He had a sudden 
 feeling that to-day he would give some years of 
 his life to look young to look as he had 
 looked when Richarda first saw him, twenty 
 years before. 
 
 He was afraid; yet he was hoping -he 
 hardly knew for what. 
 
 He set his door a- jar; he was listening now 
 for her step as she came towards the stairs ; he 
 knew her well enough to count on the pride which 
 would enable her to play her part without flinch- 
 ing before Dick and her household. 
 
 He waited, until waiting became torture. He 
 craved nothing now ; he only wanted to see her ; 
 he only wanted 
 
 Her door opened ; his courage failed. But in 
 that instant the thought came to him, that he 
 needed none to go to Charda. His shame, 
 his misery but she was there, passing his open 
 door. 
 
 " Charda ! " he cried. And said no more. 
 
 She turned, and looked at him. And with the 
 divine intuition of love, she understood all that 
 he would say and could not. 
 
 She held out her hand to him. 
 
 415
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 " Jack " Richarda knelt beside his chair 
 " Jack " but she stopped again. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked in quick alarm. 
 "Hutchinson?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 But her hands were trembling ; he remembered 
 what he had heard in the night. 
 
 " Lady ! " he entreated, afraid of he knew not 
 what. 
 
 She looked at him bravely : " I have rome- 
 thing to tell you." She straightened the pillows 
 in his chair. " Something that concerns us all." 
 
 "Us?" 
 
 " All of us, Jack. All of us in this home." 
 
 She felt the chill in his eyes. " You don't 
 understand," she said hurriedly. " You think 
 it doesn't really concern you. But it does 
 perhaps most of all." 
 
 " Then it's something nobody would want to 
 hear," he answered moodily. " Everything is 
 that concerns me." 
 
 She sighed ; there was a quiver to her lips that 
 416
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 he must not see ; she began to speak quickly. 
 " It's hard, Jack I'm afraid I shan't tell it 
 right. But no one else can tell you. I must." 
 
 "Lady what is it?" 
 
 " Yes I seem so slow. I don't know how 
 " her voice failed for a moment. " Jack 
 you remember I would not I said I could 
 not tell you what you wanted to know you 
 remember " 
 
 With a deep exclamation he sat straight 
 his eyes demanding the words silent on her lips. 
 
 " I will. I'm going to tell you now." Yet 
 she waited. 
 
 "Lady!" 
 
 " Jack " she took his hands in hers " you 
 belong here. It is to tell you that this is your 
 home " 
 
 "My home?" 
 
 If she had ever deluded herself with the hope 
 that he regarded it as such, his tone T\ould have 
 disabused her. 
 
 " As much yours as mine, Jack. Oh more ! 
 Your right to it came before mine did." 
 
 " My right before yours ? " 
 
 " And before Dick's." She looked at him 
 with an expression that only added to his bewil- 
 derment. 
 
 417
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 "Before Dick's?" 
 
 " Oh, don't you understand? Jack, if you 
 belonged here first before me, before Dick 
 don't you see that it was because " she waited ; 
 he must help her. 
 
 But he said nothing. 
 
 Her colour rose; she looked at him steadily. 
 " It was because you were my husband's son," 
 she said with simplicity. 
 
 There was a pause. Then Jack was on his 
 feet ; he was weak no more ; for a moment he and 
 Richarda looked at each other with still faces. 
 
 "I? his son?" 
 
 " Sit down," said Richarda. 
 
 But he remained standing. 
 
 " Jack " she laid a determined hand on his 
 arm " You are not to say what you are think- 
 ing. You are here in your father's house 
 where you belong where he wishes you to 
 be." 
 
 " Since when ? " The question came with 
 bitter force. 
 
 " Since he knew." 
 
 " Since he knew? " 
 
 " That you were his son." 
 
 Jack shivered ; he turned whiter ; with a quiet 
 touch Richarda set him back in his chair. She 
 418
 
 chafed his hands until a faint colour came into 
 his face ; she remembered that only a few days 
 before he had been near death. Then she said 
 gently : " This is a great shock for you. I 
 know that." 
 
 " But I don't understand I can't. I don't 
 see how it can be. Once you remember I 
 thought " but he stopped. 
 
 " Yes, I know." 
 
 " And you knew this then? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And he did not, until last night? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears. " That is between 
 my husband and me." 
 
 " But I must understand. How did I come 
 here ? And it is not only the question of my 
 father. There was a woman." 
 
 Richarda shrank. His mother ! and he 
 spoke like that. And there was nothing to tell 
 him that would change that tone. 
 
 But Jack was remembering Betty his 
 thoughts were bitter. 
 
 " Your mother yes." Richarda spoke 
 slowly. " She was very young, Jack." 
 
 " I daresay," he said brusquely. " But you 
 419
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 say he did not know. Then how did I come 
 here? " 
 
 " Just by an accident. Your mother did not 
 know where your father was, but she got a 
 position here, and when she wanted to marry 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " You are unjust to her. She had seen your 
 father by chance, and the thought came to her 
 that in his home, where you belonged, you would 
 have advantages that she could never give you. 
 She found out about me, and she believed that I 
 would think, as she did, that it was your right 
 to grow up in your father's house." 
 
 " Then it was true what I remembered. 
 And that woman who brought me here " a 
 deep flush showed suddenly red in his white 
 face. 
 
 " Jack ! don't speak of your mother like 
 that. I can't bear it." 
 
 Richarda's voice was sharp ; a feeling of pro- 
 tective tenderness for the girl who had suffered 
 through her child, and who had perhaps held 
 herself true to silence all these years for his 
 sake, welled up in her heart. It seemed a cruel 
 over-doing of retribution that his thoughts of 
 her were always to be stained with shame. 
 
 " What was she to me? She didn't want me, 
 and I don't want her." 
 
 420
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 He was trembling with anger and weakness, 
 and with humiliation in the shame that was his 
 parents'. Richarda longed to comfort him, but 
 he was in no mood for that. 
 
 " She brought me here, then," he went on 
 doggedly. " And you took me, Lady? " 
 
 " What else could I do? " 
 
 He turned his head away ; he could not let her 
 see the tears with which he remembered all that 
 she had been to him mother, home every- 
 thing. 
 
 But there was more to say he steadied him- 
 self. 
 
 " You took me, and you never told him ? " 
 
 the word was hard to say. " And you kept 
 me, even though " 
 
 " Jack, there's so much I can't explain. In 
 time you will understand. I thought I was do- 
 ing right, but I think I did all wrong." 
 
 He began to remember other things, and in 
 a moment he was in a flame. " Yes for me 
 
 all wrong. Can't you understand the shame 
 of not knowing who you are of feeling your- 
 self always under suspicion an object of char- 
 ity a cause of bitterness. Don't you see 
 how that " 
 
 Richarda got up. " Jack, I can't bear it," 
 421
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 she said breathlessly. " I do know I do un- 
 derstand. But I did not until it was too late. 
 And because I understood last night " but 
 she began to sob those sharp, dry sobs which 
 he had heard, appalled, in the long hours, when 
 he law awake tortured by the thought of Hutch- 
 inson. 
 
 "Oh Lady, I'm a brute," he cried. "But 
 don't leave me. It's all so strange. I'm glad 
 and I'm sorry. I feel better and worse." 
 He smiled with a wan touch of his old gaiety. 
 
 She looked at him with tears ; and as she had 
 held out her hand to her husband, she now held 
 it out to him. 
 
 He took it between his own; there was that 
 in his eyes which her heart was never to forget. 
 
 It was after a long silence that she said softly, 
 but quickly, with a little catch in the words: 
 "Jack he wants to see you. That was what 
 I came to tell you." 
 
 The colour flared into Jack's face; he lifted 
 his shoulders with a gesture that was all of 
 Homfrey. 
 
 She bent over him. " Jack, be good to me. 
 It is my boy, remember, who is to meet his 
 father." 
 
 And then she went swiftly out of the room. 
 422
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Jack's head dropped back against the pil- 
 lows ; he felt in himself no strength left for what 
 was coming. 
 
 Homf rey his father ! He repeated that 
 he listened to the sound of the words on his lips. 
 And with the sound there seemed to awaken in 
 him a sense of himself as another man. He was 
 Homfrey Jack Homf rey with a right to 
 his name which inhered through no act of benefi- 
 cence, but through the blood which ran in his 
 veins. 
 
 The door opened ; his heart gave a leap ; he 
 rose dizzily to his feet, but he could not look up. 
 
 Then he heard Lady's voice " Jack ! " it 
 was very still, and very far, as though it came 
 from a great height; he felt her hand steady 
 under his arm. 
 
 And then he looked up and saw the face 
 of his father. 
 
 423
 
 CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 "Dick!" 
 
 But Dick did not hear ; he was whistling busily 
 in the hall, his thoughts intent upon the baseball 
 game for which he was bound. 
 
 "Dick!" 
 
 " Hullo ! " the boy looked up to see his 
 father in the doorway of the library. " Want 
 to go with me? " 
 
 His eyes twinkled ; he was conscious of a mag- 
 nanimous pity for the paternal obstinacy which 
 insisted upon ignoring the fascinations of " dia- 
 mond " and " gridiron." 
 
 " No. I want to speak to you," said Hom- 
 frey slowly. 
 
 " What in thunder's the matter now ? " 
 thought Dick impatiently; he followed his 
 father into the library, looking aggressively at 
 his watch meanwhile. 
 
 Homfrey sat down; Dick remained standing. 
 
 His eyes narrowed as he looked at his father ; he 
 
 was passionately proud of being his father's son, 
 
 but that did not prevent his considering Hom- 
 
 424
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 frej, at times, a most puzzling parent. His 
 mother she would have known that there was 
 nothing she might want to say which could not 
 wait until after the game. But fathers took 
 themselves seriously. 
 
 Dick shuffled his feet annoyingly, with mani- 
 fest intention, but even that did not make Hom- 
 frey look up. He was drawing, with infinite 
 care, a series of waving lines upon a blotter. 
 But at last he spoke. 
 
 " There is something I have to tell you, 
 Dick." 
 
 His voice, which was very quiet, struck Dick 
 as calculatingly severe. 
 
 " Now Father, if old Butler's been complain- 
 ing to you again about my Latin, I just want 
 to say " 
 
 " He has not." 
 
 Dick muttered something under his breath, 
 then as a sudden idea occurred to him, he said 
 anxiously : " You aren't sick, are you ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, / believe you are. You look sick, 
 Father." 
 
 " But I'm not what you would call sick, my 
 boy." The words dragged. 
 
 " Then what is it? " Dick inquired briskly. 
 425
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Is it anything about business ? You weren't 
 in the Jardine affair." 
 
 " What do you know about the Jardine af- 
 fair? " 
 
 Even in his wretchedness, Homfrey felt the 
 humor of his son's large-handed grasp of him 
 as a person to be dealt with in a composed, prac- 
 tical way. 
 
 " I know all about it," said Dick promptly. 
 " Ben Marsden's father dropped thirty thousand 
 dollars in that hole." 
 
 "Poor Marsden!" 
 
 " He was a fool," retorted Dick calmly. 
 
 " I hope to God you may never be a less 
 worthy one, Dick." 
 
 Homfrey stood up; he looked straight at his 
 son. " My boy, if I had to-day against my 
 account only what poor Marsden has " he 
 paused; he felt the sweat suddenly hot in his 
 closed palms he could not go on. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 There was forbearance in the simple word, 
 but Homfrey understood that Dick was sud- 
 denly alarmed that the boy feared a blow 
 from some source unknown to him. 
 
 " It is nothing that will hurt you, Dick. Yes, 
 it will. I mean but not in the way you think 
 perhaps. I must " 
 
 426
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 "I am not afraid of being hurt," said Dick 
 coldly. He had a confused sense of acute dis- 
 comfort his father seemed to be trifling with 
 him in a vague, hysterical way that impressed 
 him as a humiliation to them both. 
 
 " I know you're not. You're like your mother 
 in that. But / am afraid of being hurt, 
 Dick." 
 
 " You ! " 
 
 There was such tribute in the exclamation 
 that Homfrey's broken spirit instinctively ral- 
 lied. 
 
 " It doesn't matter. I have got to be hurt 
 the thing I must tell you concerns Jack." 
 
 "Jack?" 
 
 Stolid as he appeared to be, Dick apprehended 
 sharply that he had never heard his father say 
 that name in this tone. 
 
 " What I have to tell you," said Homfrey in 
 a voice which shrank " is that Jack after 
 to-day will be in a different you see 
 can't you understand ? has it never occurred 
 to you ? don't you see that Jack " 
 
 But there Homfrey stopped. Richarda had 
 been right. He had to tell Dick this thing, but 
 he would tell it all wrong. 
 
 Was there any way to tell it right? 
 427
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Then Dick said : " I would rather know at 
 once, Father." 
 
 But for a moment yet Homfrey waited; he 
 knew that with his next breath he was going to 
 lose that for which he cared above everything 
 else in the world. 
 
 He turned to Dick. 
 
 " Jack, too, is my son," he said. 
 
 Dick looked at his father, but in his mind 
 there was no more immediate appreciation of the 
 case than a touch of resentment that Homfrey, 
 like a juggler with coloured balls, should choose 
 to toss lightly into the air, words which were 
 fanciful and meaningless. 
 
 " You mean that you're going to adopt 
 Jack?" 
 
 The idea was amusing; Dick laughed. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then I don't understand." 
 
 Dick was suddenly resentful ; he was tired of 
 this. 
 
 " Jack is my son." 
 
 Dick stepped back; his face grew slowly red 
 as his father's grew white. 
 
 " I don't understand," he said again but 
 this time with curious dignity. 
 
 " But you must ! " exclaimed Homfrey with 
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 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 unconscious sharpness. " Jack is my son as 
 much as you are. He was born before I mar- 
 ried your mother. But I didn't even know that 
 until yesterday. I knew nothing. But your 
 mother did.." 
 
 "Mother!" 
 
 Homfrey's face flamed. He had known that 
 he must drink the uttermost dreg of shame, but 
 he had not imagined it as bitter as this. He 
 stood before his child as the criminal before his 
 judge, but he would never know the sentence 
 pronounced upon him. 
 
 " Your mother, yes," he faltered, though 
 without intention of speaking " Jack was 
 brought to her by his mother." 
 
 Dick's eyes flashed upon his father's face. 
 Then reaching for the cap which had fallen from 
 his hand, he said with laborious indifference: 
 " Well, I guess I'll be going." 
 
 " Dick ! " 
 
 But the boy did not look back ; the door closed 
 behind him, and Homfrey was left to himself 
 and to a bitter hour. 
 
 Dick walked slowly up the stairs; he might 
 as well go back to his room and work on his Ger- 
 man for a while. The house was drearily quiet 
 it seemed as if everybody had gone out of it. 
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 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 As he came to the door of Jack's room, he saw 
 that it was a- jar he passed it with a heart 
 that beat suddenly like a drum his face 
 was hot again. Then he paused ; for a few mo- 
 ments he stood irresolute; then his lips set 
 squarely. He rallied all his pride and self-con- 
 trol, and pushing the slanted door open, he 
 went in. He had a dim feeling that no one 
 should dictate to him the method of his accept- 
 ance of Jack as a brother. He would forestall 
 all possibility of that. 
 
 "Hullo Jack! Feeling better to-day?" 
 
 Jack's face lightened. " Oh Dick, I'm awfully 
 glad to see you," he said simply. 
 
 They chatted over intimate trifles for a few 
 minutes; then with a little touch of embarrass- 
 ment in his manner, Dick jumped up. 
 
 " I must get back to my German." 
 
 With a nod he was gone. 
 
 When he reached his own room, he shut the 
 door unhurriedly, but he had hardly done so 
 when he broke into a sob that was strangely ter- 
 rifying to him. For he had always been happy. 
 
 Long afterwards he heard a faint knock at 
 his door. After some moments he opened it; 
 his mother stood there. 
 
 " It's dinner-time, Dick." She did not look 
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 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 at him. " And I'm not ready. I couldn't 
 fasten this hook. Can you do it for me? " 
 
 There was a silence ; then Dick said irritably : 
 " I can't do it, Mother." 
 
 " It doesn't matter. Come along." 
 
 But then, though each sought evasion, the 
 glances of mother and son met full. 
 
 " Oh Dick, you mustn't you mustn't. Not 
 like that." 
 
 " I mustn't? " the boy fired upon her. 
 " Didn't you care, Mother? " 
 
 " But that was different," she retorted with a 
 half-sob. "Your father " 
 
 " My father! " 
 
 She looked at him as he had never known his 
 mother could look. Then she repeated with a 
 passionate tenderness that seemed to set the sim- 
 ple words apart from all that might wound them : 
 "Your father? Oh Dick, you don't under- 
 stand. You don't know." 
 
 " I don't want to." 
 
 Richarda was silent ; her own pain was still so 
 deep, so unassuaged. 
 
 But her bitterness passed; she recovered her 
 courage. 
 
 " And I do not want to, Dick." 
 
 The boy swung away from her then turned 
 back. " Mother, would you like " 
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 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " Dick tell me do you know anywhere 
 to-day a better man than your father?" 
 
 The tears he had manfully kept back, shone 
 suddenly in Dick's eyes. " But that's it, 
 Mother. That's it. I don't understand." He 
 looked at her, bewildered. " Oh Mother, don't 
 cry!" 
 
 " I must," she whispered brokenly. " Every- 
 thing hurts so. / don't understand, and your 
 father doesn't. It was all wrong. But he 
 wants to make it right, and you and I must 
 help him. And Dick there are not many 
 men noble enough to do what I know your father 
 will do about Jack." 
 
 " I see," said the boy slowly. " But Mother, 
 you're crying again." 
 
 Richarda smiled. " Perhaps that's because I 
 haven't any longer anything to cry about." 
 
 But Dick shook his head, unconvinced. 
 
 " Nothing will ever be the same again," he 
 said drearily. 
 
 " But Dick, this always has been. It is only 
 that you haven't known it. I have. And I 
 have been so afraid of it. And now I shall 
 never be afraid again." She clasped his hand 
 hard in a sudden outbreak of emotion. " Oh 
 Dick, my Dick, be glad for me, that I shall 
 never be afraid again." 
 432
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 " The thing is impossible," said Homfrey. 
 
 Jack shook his head; he looked towards Ri- 
 charda for understanding. 
 
 " If it were any other man but old Hutch. 
 But he's different. And if you knew Betty, 
 you would know that there is no long life of 
 happiness with her before Bill. There can't be. 
 It's not in her nature that there should be. It 
 would not be an easy position for any woman 
 to be the wife of a man like Hutchinson, but for 
 Betty it will become impossible. By this time 
 she will have grown used to his wealth and his 
 position she will think of those things as hers 
 
 she will have exhausted all the novelty. 
 But outside all this argument there is Hutch- 
 himself. He believes in the truth at any cost 
 
 we've spent hours arguing about that. And 
 he knows that I know him better than anyone 
 else does that I could never make the excuse 
 that I had not understood what he would expect 
 of me. Besides, he is no coward. He is the 
 bravest man I know." 
 
 433
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " And still " 
 
 Jack cut Homfrey short. " There is always 
 Betty. You see, she is apt, sometime or other, 
 to tell Hutch herself. In fact, I think she is 
 sure to. And if she ever does tell him, she will 
 do it in the cruellest way." 
 
 " Well, you seem to think you understand the 
 case all round," said Homfrey. " And I sup- 
 pose you may be right, but I can not see it so." 
 
 " I am right." Jack spoke with decision. 
 " I have done as you asked. But my year in 
 Berlin, away from all the circumstances, has not 
 made me feel differently. I have learnt to look 
 at the matter dispassionately that is all. Of 
 course this whole question of marriage is so 
 overlaid with sentiment and tradition that it is 
 hard to do that. Yet Bill's case is simple 
 enough. He has made the kind of mistake that, 
 for a man like him, is intolerable. There is 
 then, only one thing for him to do that is, to 
 rectify it. The situation is an impossible one 
 for him it could not be permanent." He 
 thought a moment; then he added with a long 
 breath : " Ah, if Betty were different if I 
 knew that she could make Hutch happy, then I 
 should have a problem on my hands that would 
 be bitter enough. For I should still feel that 
 434
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Hutch himself would rather know the truth and 
 suffer, than be happy . and deceived. And in 
 that case, the worst of the misery would fall, not 
 upon him, but upon the woman." 
 
 " Still you do not know," said Richarda. 
 " Perhaps Betty, by this time aren't you 
 pretty hard on her, Jack? " 
 
 " No," retorted Jack with sudden fierceness. 
 " I can never forgive her for marrying Bill. 
 She knew, as well as anyone, what he wanted in 
 his wife. She never loved him she took him 
 to use him. You must remember that you do 
 not know Betty." 
 
 "No," said Richarda slowly. "I don't, of 
 course. But marriage is like nothing else, 
 Jack." 
 
 She looked wistfully at the boy ; there were 
 many things before him to understand. But 
 one must wait. He was temporarily in a state 
 of mind which was a logical superinduction of 
 his final experiences at Waverley. During his 
 year in Berlin he had thrown himself upon his 
 work with a passion which had yielded brilliant 
 results, with the effect that there was produced 
 in him a curiously stern appreciation of his en- 
 dowment and of his responsibility to it. The 
 boy had become a man a man, for the time, 
 435
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 of an unexpectedly puritanic temper. He was 
 in that phase of development which has no pa- 
 tience with the mistakes and the compromises of 
 life his own or other people's. He had suf- 
 fered for years from the bitter consciousness of 
 himself as in an equivocal position, and Richarda 
 suspected that in his present state of mind there 
 were moments when his judgment of her was 
 severe when he would have said that she had 
 created an intolerable situation, and suffering 
 for everyone concerned out of a matter which 
 was simplicity itself; which, honestly faced and 
 denuded of sentimental sophistry, might have 
 been adjusted to the general good with a mini- 
 mum of emotion. 
 
 But Richarda was a patient woman. She 
 did not resent a possible attitude of this sort on 
 Jack's part; it seemed to her a reasonable con- 
 comitant of his youth of his inexperience in 
 the most mysterious of all paradoxes, the human 
 heart. She could wait for his understanding of 
 her weakness. 
 
 Besides, she had Homfrey. The reproaches 
 which she had expected from him had never been 
 uttered; in his great humiliation there was no 
 room for criticism of the injustice to him of her 
 long silence, for he recognised that she had been 
 436
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 obedient unto the heavenly vision as it had been 
 granted to her; her eyes had been towards the 
 light, and when the greater revelation was 
 vouchsafed to her, she had responded to it with 
 the greater renunciation. 
 
 Richarda had feared the destruction between 
 them of all that she held most dear in her mar- 
 riage; she understood now that the bond that 
 held them to each other had undergone, in their 
 mutual sorrow, a sacramental regeneration which 
 lifted it above all menace. 
 
 She had asked that she might see of the tra- 
 vail of her soul and he satisfied ; with the awe of 
 a great deliverance upon her, she believed that 
 her prayer had touched the heart of God, and 
 had been answered, though not as she had willed. 
 
 " How long was Dr. Maxwell in Berlin with 
 you ? " she asked when the discussion with regard 
 to Hutchinson had dropped. 
 
 " About three months. He's now in Scot- 
 land." Jack ruminated. " He's a good deal 
 changed. He's seen his wife, you know." 
 
 " He has seen her? " 
 
 " Yes. 'Tisn't a reconciliation. I don't mean 
 
 that. It never will be. But Maxwell seems to 
 
 have lost his bitterness. Seeing her must have 
 
 done something for him, but I have never under- 
 
 437
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 stood what. He's so much more human. He 
 makes an effort to be kindly in an ordinary, sim- 
 ple way. When he knows that I have had a 
 letter from you, he will ask about you you'd 
 think he was really interested. That's the kind 
 of difference. It shows in little ways." 
 
 " I see," said Richarda absently. 
 
 " He'll do great things yet," added Jack 
 " If he lives." 
 
 " Why do you say, if he lives ? " 
 
 Jack looked disturbed. " I don't know. It 
 haunts me the feeling that he won't that 
 just as he gets to the place where he can do what 
 counts, he will be called. I can't get rid of the 
 sense of tragedy when I think of him. It's 
 bound up with my idea of him. And I think he 
 feels it himself. And the odd thing is that he 
 would not rebel. I know what his interpreta- 
 tion would be. It would be, that the final 
 thwarting of his desires represented the perfect 
 rounding out of a life like his that for him 
 the imperfect was the perfect." 
 
 " I like that," said Richarda. 
 
 " I daresay. But it's an unnatural point of 
 view. It's what a man's driven to, not what he 
 chooses." 
 
 " My dear boy " Richarda laid her hand on 
 438
 
 Jack's shoulder " Some day you may feel that 
 the things we are ultimately driven to, are apt to 
 be the great things the ends to which all our 
 lives have moved." 
 
 " Perhaps, Lady perhaps." 
 
 " Hutch writes that he does not want to come 
 into town to see me," said Jack to Richarda a 
 few days later. " So I shall go out there. I 
 shall ask him to meet me at the hotel I cannot 
 go to his house, of course. There is something 
 in his letter that I do not get at." 
 
 " Don't go," pleaded Richarda. 
 
 But Jack's mouth was set. " It's no use, 
 Lady. It's * laid upon me ' as the saints would 
 say. It's something old Hutch and I have to 
 go through together. I see no escape for either 
 of us. I was a fool, and so was he, and we have 
 to pay for it. As I've said to you so often, if 
 Hutch were any other man but just Hutch, it 
 would be different. But he's not, and the thing 
 has to be done. All the same," he added with 
 an unhappy smile " I've lain awake all night 
 over it. I ought to have told him sooner. 
 That's my greatest misery now. But you know 
 how you put it to me. You insisted on the 
 
 year." 
 
 439
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 " I wish I could do it again," said Richarda. 
 
 Jack shook his head absently. " And now 
 this letter of Bill's adds to my perplexity. 
 Something's happened. He doesn't mention his 
 wife. There's something in it that makes me 
 feel as if he were a thousand miles away from 
 me." 
 
 " Perhaps he knows," suggested Richarda. 
 
 " Perhaps. It looks a little like that to me." 
 
 " Or perhaps " but Richarda went no fur- 
 ther. 
 
 She waited through a long day in great 
 anxiety for Jack's return ; when Homf rey came 
 home to dinner he was disturbed at finding her 
 so wan and nervous. He tried to divert her, and 
 she responded to his efforts patiently, but it was 
 a dreary evening for them both. When it grew 
 near midnight, she begged him to go up- 
 stairs. 
 
 " I would rather be alone when he comes." 
 
 " And he would rather find you alone," said 
 Homfrey. " He will always be more your boy 
 than mine, Richarda." 
 
 She looked up at him. " You have told me 
 that I earned him," she answered defensively. 
 
 "Yes, you earned him." The expression. 
 440
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 came into Homfrey's eyes that always made the 
 tears feel near her own. 
 
 It was one o'clock before she heard the latch- 
 key in the door she had gone up-stairs mean- 
 ing to put on a dressing-gown with the idea of 
 lying down on the couch in the library until he 
 came. Then she heard his quick light step and 
 the rattle of the key, and she ran to the head of 
 the stairs. And when Jack came in, he looked 
 up, and saw her coming down, as he had seen 
 her on that summer morning when he had come 
 back to her, ill and broken in mind and in body. 
 He stood and looked at her silently as she hur- 
 ried to him in her gentle eager way he was 
 thinking with a rush of emotion that over- 
 whelmed him, that she had never failed him when 
 she knew he needed her that she was, and 
 always would be the dominating influence in his 
 life that living or dead, her conscience would 
 always be for his the final court of appeal. 
 
 " Jack ! " she said in the lightest voice. 
 
 " Oh Lady ! " he took her hands in his and 
 held them for a moment without speaking 
 she saw that he could not. Something had hap- 
 pened since she said good-bye to him that morn- 
 ing. 
 
 She waited ; then she said quietly : " We'll 
 441
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 go into the library," and he followed her, taking 
 off his coat as he went. 
 
 " You're so tired," he protested at last. 
 
 She made a gesture. 
 
 Then he began to talk. " It's all so different 
 from what we thought, Lady." 
 
 " Then you haven't told him." 
 
 " No. I haven't told him." 
 
 " Oh, I'm so glad." The tears came into 
 Richarda's eyes. 
 
 " You see, when I got there " Jack went on 
 in the same slow way " Bill met me and we 
 had luncheon together at the hotel. It was a 
 shock to me the moment I saw him the way 
 he had altered. The tone of his voice was dif- 
 ferent I noticed that with his first word, and 
 his hair has begun to get gray. He wanted to 
 hear all about my affairs, and was so interested 
 to know that I was going abroad again. After 
 a while he told me that he had resigned his posi- 
 tion at Waverley a year ago I understood 
 then that he had not returned there after his 
 marriage. But somehow, I couldn't ask any 
 questions. I felt all the time that I was waiting 
 for something, but I couldn't get any clue as to 
 what. He did not mention his wife I won- 
 dered how I ever should be able to. I had
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 thought it all out so straight in the train I 
 got out at that station knowing just what I had 
 to say. And the longer I talked to Hutch the 
 further I got away from what I had come there 
 to tell him. I couldn't understand why. Then 
 by degrees it came to me that it was because of 
 Hutch that he was holding me silent that 
 I was not to speak his wife's name. That was 
 it, Lady. The longer we talked, the surer I 
 was of it. And by and by we talked less and 
 less I said I must get my train. And as we 
 walked to the station he said there was some- 
 thing he must tell me that he had a little 
 child a little daughter, born last week. And 
 then I understood what had happened to old 
 Hutch. You understand, Lady." 
 
 Richarda nodded. 
 
 " And I could only say to him : * Oh, what a 
 wonderful thing a little child.' That was all. 
 When the train came in we said good-bye 
 with the commonplaces of strangers. But as it 
 moved out I was still standing on the step 
 he turned quickly and looked up at me, and 
 said : * O Hefty ! ' and then I knew, Lady, 
 that he knew all that I could tell him." 
 
 Jack laid his head on the table, and for a few 
 moments there was silence in the room. Then 
 he said in a broken voice : "Oh Hutch ! " 
 443
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Richarda was silent. 
 
 At last Jack looked at her. " Why did it 
 have to happen to him, Lady ? " 
 
 " I've been thinking about that all day," she 
 answered. " And it seems to me one has to go a 
 long way before one understands or rather, a 
 long way before one begins to understand any- 
 thing at all about it. After all, Jack, it's only 
 a man like Hutchinson who can be sacrificed to 
 save a woman like Betty. And he may fail. 
 But that is not the point." 
 
 "He will fail. How can he do anything else? 
 And look at him now it maddens me to think 
 of it! He has been driven to accept her as his 
 to protect her with his honour and his name 
 to save her from a word, even from me." 
 
 " It's wonderful," said Richarda in a hushed 
 voice. " Don't you see what it is, Jack? It's 
 the working out of the divinest law in human 
 life a law without which humanity would have 
 gone to destruction long before this. You think 
 of the ruin of Hutchinson's happiness. That 
 idea of happiness is at the root of all our un- 
 happiness. What better can Hutchinson have 
 than what is before him? And don't you think, 
 perhaps, that it is time, for the preservation of 
 his own race morally, I mean that there 
 444
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 should come into it a Betty and all that Betty 
 stands for? " 
 
 "Morally?" 
 
 " Yes morally." 
 
 " You go deep, Lady." 
 
 " One must, if one would understand. If you 
 could have done for Hutchinson just what you 
 think he deserves, you would have seen to it that 
 he married what you would call a woman worthy 
 of him. And then, by the time he was fifty, he 
 would be stagnant in his own virtue and hers. 
 The truth is, that he is so fine a type, that only 
 Betty is really worthy of him." 
 
 " Lady ! " exclaimed Jack. 
 
 Richarda held up her hand. " And he only 
 is worthy of Betty. Listen to me, Jack." She 
 leaned forward. " Why should his family be 
 immune from the great struggle? Is it enough, 
 do you think, that a man like Hutchinson should 
 give a big contribution to his church to the 
 saving of the souls of the heathen to the town 
 charities ? Is that what lifts humanity up ? 
 Oh no ! " Richarda shook her head. " It's the 
 sweat of one soul for another that counts. And 
 the time had come for that race of Hutchinsons 
 to do its work in the world. And to do that it 
 had to bring the struggle into its own blood. 
 445
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 Hutchinson understands. He knew well, when 
 he looked for the first time, into the face of his 
 child." Richarda was silent a moment ; then she 
 added: "And Betty! It's wonderful. She 
 has been gripped by something that will never 
 let her go. Whatever she may do, however she 
 may try to escape, she will never be able to get 
 away from the thought of Hutchinson." 
 
 " What an insatiable idealist you are, lady ! " 
 exclaimed Jack. 
 
 Richarda looked at him with a faint smile. 
 " It's the only way. You can't get out of it, if 
 you think at all below the surface. You see, in 
 this tragedy of you and Betty and Hutchinson 
 Oh, further back in the tragedy of your 
 father and your mother and you something 
 has been working steadily towards an end that 
 had a meaning. It will be like that with Hutch- 
 inson. You will see. The end is assured. It 
 is so good to remember sometimes that we cannot 
 defeat it." 
 
 There was a little pause ; then Jack said : " I 
 couldn't have believed this morning that I should 
 come back to-night thinking so differently of so 
 many things. After I left Hutch it seems 
 to me that for a while I must have thought 
 harder and faster than I ever have in my life. 
 446
 
 THE ROAD TO DAMASCUS 
 
 I understood what you meant when you said 
 marriage was like nothing else. I thought of 
 my own children as if they were real. It 
 puts such a different face on it all when you 
 think of it that way. I wondered what I was 
 going to hand on to my own boy." 
 
 " Not less of some things," said Richarda. 
 " But higher up." 
 
 There was a long silence a silence, which in 
 the interlacing of their thoughts seemed woven 
 as a single fabric. Then Richarda said: 
 
 " It's late and Tim will want to know." 
 
 But she stood for a moment looking at Jack ; 
 she was remembering him, as she had first seen 
 him a frightened deserted child. Yet he had 
 become the measure whereby much had been 
 meted. 
 
 " Good-night, Jack," she said quietly. 
 
 " Good-night, Lady." 
 
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