Shecreptacrosstohim，drawingherstoolafterher。"Whendidyoufirstbegintofeellikethis，Bartley？"
"Aftertheveryfirst。Thefirstwas——
sortofinplay，wasn’tit？"
Hilda’sfacequivered，butshewhispered：
"Yes，Ithinkitmusthavebeen。Butwhydidn’tyoutellmewhenyouwerehereinthesummer？"
Alexandergroaned。"Imeantto，butsomehowIcouldn’t。Wehadonlyafewdays，andyournewplaywasjuston，andyouweresohappy。"
"Yes，Iwashappy，wasn’tI？"Shepressedhishandgentlyingratitude。
"Weren’tyouhappythen，atall？"
Sheclosedhereyesandtookadeepbreath，asiftodrawinagainthefragranceofthosedays。SomethingoftheirtroublingsweetnesscamebacktoAlexander，too。
Hemoveduneasilyandhischaircreaked。
"Yes，Iwasthen。Youknow。Butafterward……"
"Yes，yes，"shehurried，pullingherhandgentlyawayfromhim。Presentlyitstolebacktohiscoatsleeve。
"Pleasetellmeonething，Bartley。Atleast，tellmethatyoubelieveIthoughtIwasmakingyouhappy。"
Hishandshutdownquicklyoverthequestioningfingersonhissleeves。
"Yes，Hilda；Iknowthat，"hesaidsimply。
Sheleanedherheadagainsthisarmandspokesoftly：——
"Yousee，mymistakewasinwantingyoutohaveeverything。Iwantedyoutoeatallthecakesandhavethem，too。IsomehowbelievedthatIcouldtakeallthebadconsequencesforyou。Iwantedyoualwaystobehappyandhandsomeandsuccessful——tohaveallthethingsthatagreatmanoughttohave，and，onceinaway，thecarelessholidaysthatgreatmenarenotpermitted。"
Bartleygaveabitterlittlelaugh，andHildalookedupandreadinthedeepeninglinesofhisfacethatyouthandBartleywouldnotmuchlongerstruggletogether。
"Iunderstand，Bartley。Iwaswrong。ButI
didn’tknow。You’veonlytotellmenow。
WhatmustIdothatI’venotdone，orwhatmustInotdo？"Shelistenedintently，butsheheardnothingbutthecreakingofhischair。
"Youwantmetosayit？"shewhispered。
"Youwanttotellmethatyoucanonlyseemelikethis，asoldfriendsdo，oroutintheworldamongpeople？Icandothat。"
"Ican’t，"hesaidheavily。
Hildashiveredandsatstill。Bartleyleanedhisheadinhishandsandspokethroughhisteeth。
"It’sgottobeacleanbreak，Hilda。
Ican’tseeyouatall，anywhere。
WhatImeanisthatIwantyoutopromisenevertoseemeagain，nomatterhowoftenIcome，nomatterhowhardIbeg。"
Hildaspranguplikeaflame。Shestoodoverhimwithherhandsclenchedatherside，herbodyrigid。
"No!"shegasped。"It’stoolatetoaskthat。
Doyouhearme，Bartley？It’stoolate。
Iwon’tpromise。It’sabominableofyoutoaskme。
Keepawayifyouwish；whenhaveIeverfollowedyou？
But，ifyoucometome，I’lldoasIseefit。
Theshamefulnessofyouraskingmetodothat!
Ifyoucometome，I’lldoasIseefit。
Doyouunderstand？Bartley，you’recowardly!"
Alexanderroseandshookhimselfangrily。
"Yes，IknowI’mcowardly。I’mafraidofmyself。
Idon’ttrustmyselfanymore。Icarrieditalllightlyenoughatfirst，butnowIdon’tdaretriflewithit。
It’sgettingthebetterofme。It’sdifferentnow。
I’mgrowingolder，andyou’vegotmyyoungselfherewithyou。
It’sthroughhimthatI’vecometowishforyouallandallthetime。"Hetookherroughlyinhisarms。
"DoyouknowwhatImean？"
Hildaheldherfacebackfromhimandbegantocrybitterly。"Oh，Bartley，whatamItodo？
Whydidn’tyouletmebeangrywithyou？
Youaskmetostayawayfromyoubecauseyouwantme!AndI’vegotnobodybutyou。
Iwilldoanythingyousay——butthat!
Iwillasktheleastimaginable，butImusthaveSOMETHING!"
Bartleyturnedawayandsankdowninhischairagain。
Hildasatonthearmofitandputherhandslightlyonhisshoulders。
"JustsomethingBartley。Imusthaveyoutothinkofthroughthemonthsandmonthsofloneliness。
Imustseeyou。Imustknowaboutyou。
Thesightofyou，Bartley，toseeyoulivingandhappyandsuccessful——canInevermakeyouunderstandwhatthatmeanstome？"
Shepressedhisshouldersgently。
"Yousee，lovingsomeoneasIloveyoumakesthewholeworlddifferent。
IfI’dmetyoulater，ifIhadn’tlovedyousowell——
butthat’sallover，longago。Thencameallthoseyearswithoutyou，lonelyandhurtanddiscouraged；thosedecentyoungfellowsandpoorMac，andmeneverheeding——hardasasteelspring。Andthenyoucameback，notcaringverymuch，butitmadenodifference。"
Sheslidtothefloorbesidehim，asifsheweretootiredtositupanylonger。Bartleybentoverandtookherinhisarms，kissinghermouthandherwet，tiredeyes。
"Don’tcry，don’tcry，"hewhispered。
"We’vetorturedeachotherenoughfortonight。
ForgeteverythingexceptthatIamhere。"
"IthinkIhaveforgotteneverythingbutthatalready，"shemurmured。"Ah，yourdeararms!"
CHAPTERVII
DuringthefortnightthatAlexanderwasinLondonhedrovehimselfhard。Hegotthroughagreatdealofpersonalbusinessandsawagreatmanymenwhoweredoinginterestingthingsinhisownprofession。
HedislikedtothinkofhisvisitstoLondonasholidays，andwhenhewasthereheworkedevenharderthanhedidathome。
ThedaybeforehisdepartureforLiverpoolwasasingularlyfineone。Thethickairhadclearedovernightinastrongwindwhichbroughtinagoldendawnandthenfellofftoafreshbreeze。WhenBartleylookedoutofhiswindowsfromtheSavoy，theriverwasflashingsilverandthegraystonealongtheEmbankmentwasbathedinbright，clearsunshine。
Londonhadwakenedtolifeafterthreeweeksofcoldandsoddenrain。Bartleybreakfastedhurriedlyandwentoverhismailwhilethehotelvaletpackedhistrunks。ThenhepaidhisaccountandwalkedrapidlydowntheStrandpastCharingCrossStation。Hisspiritsrosewitheverystep，andwhenhereachedTrafalgarSquare，blazinginthesun，withitsfountainsplayinganditscolumnreachingupintothebrightair，hesignaledtoahansom，and，beforeheknewwhathewasabout，toldthedrivertogotoBedfordSquarebywayoftheBritishMuseum。
WhenhereachedHilda’sapartmentshemethim，freshasthemorningitself。
Herroomswerefloodedwithsunshineandfulloftheflowershehadbeensendingher。
Shewouldneverlethimgiveheranythingelse。
"Areyoubusythismorning，Hilda？"heaskedashesatdown，hishatandglovesinhishand。
"Very。I’vebeenupandaboutthreehours，workingatmypart。WeopeninFebruary，youknow。"
"Well，thenyou’veworkedenough。AndsohaveI。I’veseenallmymen，mypackingisdone，andIgouptoLiverpoolthisevening。
Butthismorningwearegoingtohaveaholiday。WhatdoyousaytoadriveouttoKewandRichmond？Youmaynotgetanotherdaylikethisallwinter。It’slikeafineAprildayathome。MayIuseyourtelephone？
Iwanttoorderthecarriage。"
"Oh，howjolly!There，sitdownatthedesk。
AndwhileyouaretelephoningI’llchangemydress。
Ishan’tbelong。Allthemorningpapersareonthetable。"
Hildawasbackinafewmomentswearingalonggraysquirrelcoatandabroadfurhat。
Bartleyroseandinspectedher。"Whydon’tyouwearsomeofthosepinkroses？"heasked。
"Buttheycameonlythismorning，andtheyhavenotevenbeguntoopen。
Iwassavingthem。Iamsounconsciouslythrifty!"
Shelaughedasshelookedabouttheroom。
"You’vebeensendingmefartoomanyflowers，Bartley。Newoneseveryday。That’stoooften；
thoughIdolovetoopentheboxes，andItakegoodcareofthem。"
"Whywon’tyouletmesendyouanyofthosejadeorivorythingsyouaresofondof？Orpictures？
Iknowagooddealaboutpictures。"
Hildashookherlargehatasshedrewtherosesoutofthetallglass。"No，therearesomethingsyoucan’tdo。There’sthecarriage。
Willyoubuttonmyglovesforme？"
Bartleytookherwristandbegantobuttonthelonggraysuedeglove。
"Howgayyoureyesarethismorning，Hilda。"
"That’sbecauseI’vebeenstudying。
Italwaysstirsmeupalittle。"
Hepushedthetopofthegloveupslowly。
"Whendidyoulearntotakeholdofyourpartslikethat？"
"WhenIhadnothingelsetothinkof。
Come，thecarriageiswaiting。
Whatashockingwhileyoutake。"
"I’minnohurry。We’veplentyoftime。"
TheyfoundallLondonabroad。Piccadillywasastreamofrapidlymovingcarriages，fromwhichflashedfursandflowersandbrightwintercostumes。Themetaltrappingsoftheharnessesshonedazzlingly，andthewheelswererevolvingdisksthatthrewoffraysoflight。Theparkswerefullofchildrenandnursemaidsandjoyfuldogsthatleapedandyelpedandscratchedupthebrownearthwiththeirpaws。
"I’mnotgoinguntilto—morrow，youknow，"
Bartleyannouncedsuddenly。"I’llcutoffadayinLiverpool。Ihaven’tfeltsojollythislongwhile。"
Hildalookedupwithasmilewhichshetriednottomaketooglad。"Ithinkpeopleweremeanttobehappy，alittle，"shesaid。
TheyhadlunchatRichmondandthenwalkedtoTwickenham，wheretheyhadsentthecarriage。
Theydroveback，withaglorioussunsetbehindthem，towardthedistantgold—washedcity。
ItwasoneofthoserareafternoonswhenallthethicknessandshadowofLondonarechangedtoakindofshining，pulsing，specialatmosphere；whenthesmokyvaporsbecomeflutteringgoldenclouds，nacreousveilsofpinkandamber；whenallthatbleaknessofgraystoneanddullnessofdirtybricktremblesinaureatelight，andalltheroofsandspires，andonegreatdome，arefloatedingoldenhaze。Onsuchrareafternoonstheugliestofcitiesbecomesthemostpoetic，andmonthsofsoddendaysareoffsetbyamomentofmiracle。
"It’slikethatwithusLondoners，too，"
Hildawassaying。"Everythingisawfullygrimandcheerless，ourweatherandourhousesandourwaysofamusingourselves。
Butwecanbehappierthananybody。
Wecangomadwithjoy，asthepeopledooutinthefieldsonafineWhitsunday。
Wemakethemostofourmoment。"
Shethrustherlittlechinoutdefiantlyoverhergrayfurcollar，andBartleylookeddownatherandlaughed。
"Youareapluckyone，you。"Hepattedherglovewithhishand。"Yes，youareapluckyone。"
Hildasighed。"No，I’mnot。Notaboutsomethings，atanyrate。Itdoesn’ttakeplucktofightforone’smoment，butittakesplucktogowithout——alot。MorethanIhave。
Ican’thelpit，"sheaddedfiercely。
Aftermilesofoutlyingstreetsandlittlegloomyhouses，theyreachedLondonitself，redandroaringandmurky，withathickdampnesscomingupfromtheriver，thatbetokenedfogagainto—morrow。Thestreetswerefullofpeoplewhohadworkedindoorsallthroughthepricelessdayandhadnowcomehungrilyouttodrinkthemuddyleesofit。Theystoodinlongblacklines，waitingbeforethepitentrancesofthetheatres——
short—coatedboys，andgirlsinsailorhats，allshiveringandchattinggayly。Therewasablurredrhythminallthedullcitynoises——
intheclatterofthecabhorsesandtherumblingofthebusses，inthestreetcalls，andintheundulatingtramp，trampofthecrowd。Itwaslikethedeepvibrationofsomevastundergroundmachinery，andlikethemuffledpulsationsofmillionsofhumanhearts。
[See"TheBarrelOrganbyAlfredNoyes。Ed。]
[Ihaveplaceditattheendforyourconvenience]
"Seemsgoodtogetback，doesn’tit？"
Bartleywhispered，astheydrovefromBayswaterRoadintoOxfordStreet。
"Londonalwaysmakesmewanttolivemorethananyothercityintheworld。Yourememberourpriestessmummyoverinthemummy—room，andhowweusedtolongtogoandbringheroutonnightslikethis？Threethousandyears!Ugh!"
"Allthesame，Ibelievesheusedtofeelitwhenwestoodthereandwatchedherandwishedherwell。Ibelievesheusedtoremember，"
Hildasaidthoughtfully。
"Ihopeso。Nowlet’sgotosomeawfullyjollyplacefordinnerbeforewegohome。
IcouldeatallthedinnersthereareinLondonto—night。WhereshallItellthedriver？
ThePiccadillyRestaurant？Themusic’sgoodthere。"
"Therearetoomanypeopletherewhomoneknows。WhynotthatlittleFrenchplaceinSoho，wherewewentsooftenwhenyouwerehereinthesummer？Iloveit，andI’veneverbeentherewithanyonebutyou。
SometimesIgobymyself，whenIamparticularlylonely。"
"Verywell，thesole’sgoodthere。
Howmanystreetpianosthereareaboutto—night!
Thefineweathermusthavethawedthemout。
We’vehadfivemilesof`IlTrovatore’now。
Theyalwaysmakemefeeljaunty。
Areyoucomfy，andnottootired？"
I’mnottiredatall。Iwasjustwonderinghowpeoplecaneverdie。Whydidyouremindmeofthemummy？Lifeseemsthestrongestandmostindestructiblethingintheworld。Doyoureallybelievethatallthosepeoplerushingaboutdownthere，goingtogooddinnersandclubsandtheatres，willbedeadsomeday，andnotcareaboutanything？
Idon’tbelieveit，andIknowIshan’tdie，ever!Yousee，Ifeeltoo——toopowerful!"
Thecarriagestopped。Bartleysprangoutandswungherquicklytothepavement。
Asheliftedherinhistwohandshewhispered：
"Youare——powerful!"
CHAPTERVIII
Thelastrehearsalwasover，atediousdressrehearsalwhichhadlastedalldayandexhaustedthepatienceofeveryonewhohadtodowithit。
WhenHildahaddressedforthestreetandcameoutofherdressing—room，shefoundHughMacConnellwaitingforherinthecorridor。
"Thefog’sthickerthanever，Hilda。
Therehavebeenagreatmanyaccidentsto—day。
It’spositivelyunsafeforyoutobeoutalone。
Willyouletmetakeyouhome？"
"Howgoodofyou，Mac。Ifyouaregoingwithme，IthinkI’dratherwalk。I’vehadnoexerciseto—day，andallthishasmademenervous。"
"Ishouldn’twonder，"saidMacConnelldryly。
HildapulleddownherveilandtheysteppedoutintothethickbrownwashthatsubmergedSt。Martin’sLane。MacConnelltookherhandandtuckeditsnuglyunderhisarm。
"I’msorryIwassuchasavage。Ihopeyoudidn’tthinkImadeanassofmyself。"
"Notabitofit。Idon’twonderyouwerepeppery。Thosethingsareawfullytrying。
Howdoyouthinkit’sgoing？"
"Magnificently。That’swhyIgotsostirredup。
Wearegoingtohearfromthis，bothofus。
Andthatremindsme；I’vegotnewsforyou。
TheyaregoingtobeginrepairsonthetheatreaboutthemiddleofMarch，andwearetorunovertoNewYorkforsixweeks。
Bennetttoldmeyesterdaythatitwasdecided。"
Hildalookedupdelightedlyatthetallgrayfigurebesideher。Hewastheonlythingshecouldsee，fortheyweremovingthroughadenseopaqueness，asiftheywerewalkingatthebottomoftheocean。
"Oh，Mac，howgladIam!Andtheyloveyourthingsoverthere，don’tthey？"
"Shallyoubegladfor——anyotherreason，Hilda？"
MacConnellputhishandinfrontofhertowardoffsomedarkobject。Itprovedtobeonlyalamp—post，andtheybeatinfartherfromtheedgeofthepavement。
"Whatdoyoumean，Mac？"Hildaaskednervously。
"Iwasjustthinkingtheremightbepeopleoverthereyou’dbegladtosee，"hebroughtoutawkwardly。Hildasaidnothing，andastheywalkedonMacConnellspokeagain，apologetically："Ihopeyoudon’tmindmyknowingaboutit，Hilda。Don’tstiffenuplikethat。Nooneelseknows，andIdidn’ttrytofindoutanything。Ifeltit，evenbeforeIknewwhohewas。Iknewtherewassomebody，andthatitwasn’tI。"
TheycrossedOxfordStreetinsilence，feelingtheirway。Thebusseshadstoppedrunningandthecab—driverswereleadingtheirhorses。Whentheyreachedtheotherside，MacConnellsaidsuddenly，"Ihopeyouarehappy。"
"Terribly，dangerouslyhappy，Mac，"——
Hildaspokequietly，pressingtheroughsleeveofhisgreatcoatwithherglovedhand。
"You’vealwaysthoughtmetoooldforyou，Hilda，——oh，ofcourseyou’veneversaidjustthat，——andherethisfellowisnotmorethaneightyearsyoungerthanI。I’vealwaysfeltthatifIcouldgetoutofmyoldcaseI
mightwinyouyet。It’safine，braveyouthIcarryinsideme，onlyhe’llneverbeseen。"
"Nonsense，Mac。Thathasnothingtodowithit。
It’sbecauseyouseemtooclosetome，toomuchmyownkind。ItwouldbelikemarryingCousinMike，almost。Ireallytriedtocareasyouwantedmeto，awaybackinthebeginning。"
"Well，hereweare，turningoutoftheSquare。
Youarenotangrywithme，Hilda？Thankyouforthiswalk，mydear。Goinandgetdrythingsonatonce。You’llbehavingagreatnightto—morrow。"
Sheputoutherhand。"Thankyou，Mac，foreverything。Good—night。"
MacConnelltrudgedoffthroughthefog，andshewentslowlyupstairs。Herslippersanddressinggownwerewaitingforherbeforethefire。"IshallcertainlyseehiminNewYork。Hewillseebythepapersthatwearecoming。Perhapsheknowsitalready，"
Hildakeptthinkingassheundressed。
"Perhapshewillbeatthedock。No，scarcelythat；butImaymeethiminthestreetevenbeforehecomestoseeme。"Marieplacedthetea—tablebythefireandbroughtHildaherletters。
Shelookedthemover，andstartedasshecametooneinahandwritingthatshedidnotoftensee；
Alexanderhadwrittentoheronlytwicebefore，andhedidnotallowhertowritetohimatall。
"Thankyou，Marie。Youmaygonow。"
Hildasatdownbythetablewiththeletterinherhand，stillunopened。Shelookedatitintently，turneditover，andfeltitsthicknesswithherfingers。Shebelievedthatshesometimeshadakindofsecond—sightaboutletters，andcouldtellbeforeshereadthemwhethertheybroughtgoodoreviltidings。
Sheputthisonedownonthetableinfrontofherwhileshepouredhertea。Atlast，withalittleshiverofexpectancy，shetoreopentheenvelopeandread：——
Boston，February——
MYDEARHILDA：——
Itisaftertwelveo’clock。EveryoneelseisinbedandIamsittingaloneinmystudy。
Ihavebeenhappierinthisroomthananywhereelseintheworld。Happinesslikethatmakesoneinsolent。Iusedtothinkthesefourwallscouldstandagainstanything。AndnowI
scarcelyknowmyselfhere。NowIknowthatnoonecanbuildhissecurityuponthenoblenessofanotherperson。Twopeople，whentheyloveeachother，growalikeintheirtastesandhabitsandpride，buttheirmoralnatures（whateverwemaymeanbythatcantingexpression）areneverwelded。Thebaseonegoesonbeingbase，andthenobleonenoble，totheend。
Thelastweekhasbeenabadone；Ihavebeenrealizinghowthingsusedtobewithme。
SometimesIgetusedtobeingdeadinside，butlatelyithasbeenasifawindowbesidemehadsuddenlyopened，andasifallthesmellsofspringblewintome。Thereisagardenoutthere，withstarsoverhead，whereIusedtowalkatnightwhenIhadasinglepurposeandasingleheart。IcanrememberhowIusedtofeelthere，howbeautifuleverythingaboutmewas，andwhatlifeandpowerandfreedomIfeltinmyself。WhenthewindowopensIknowexactlyhowitwouldfeeltobeoutthere。Butthatgardenisclosedtome。Howisit，Iaskmyself，thateverythingcanbesodifferentwithmewhennothingherehaschanged？Iaminmyownhouse，inmyownstudy，inthemidstofallthesequietstreetswheremyfriendslive。
Theyareallsafeandatpeacewiththemselves。
ButIamneveratpeace。Ifeelalwaysontheedgeofdangerandchange。
IkeeprememberinglocoedhorsesIusedtoseeontherangewhenIwasaboy。
Theychangedlikethat。Weusedtocatchthemandputthemupinthecorral，andtheydevelopedgreatcunning。Theywouldpretendtoeattheiroatsliketheotherhorses，butweknewtheywerealwaysschemingtogetbackattheloco。
Itseemsthatamanismeanttoliveonlyonelifeinthisworld。Whenhetriestoliveasecond，hedevelopsanothernature。Ifeelasifasecondmanhadbeengraftedintome。
Atfirstheseemedonlyapleasure—lovingsimpleton，ofwhosecompanyIwasratherashamed，andwhomIusedtohideundermycoatwhenIwalkedtheEmbankment，inLondon。
Butnowheisstrongandsullen，andheisfightingforhislifeatthecostofmine。
Thatishisoneactivity：togrowstrong。
Nocreatureeverwantedsomuchtolive。
Eventually，Isuppose，hewillabsorbmealtogether。
Believeme，youwillhatemethen。
Andwhathaveyoutodo，Hilda，withthisuglystory？Nothingatall。Thelittleboydrankoftheprettiestbrookintheforestandhebecameastag。IwriteallthisbecauseI
cannevertellittoyou，andbecauseitseemsasifIcouldnotkeepsilentanylonger。AndbecauseIsuffer，Hilda。IfanyoneIlovedsufferedlikethis，I’dwanttoknowit。Helpme，Hilda!
B。A。
CHAPTERIX
OnthelastSaturdayinApril，theNewYork"Times"
publishedanaccountofthestrikecomplicationswhichweredelayingAlexander’sNewJerseybridge，andstatedthattheengineerhimselfwasintownandathisofficeonWestTenthStreet。
OnSunday，thedayafterthisnoticeappeared，AlexanderworkedalldayathisTenthStreetrooms。
HisbusinessoftencalledhimtoNewYork，andhehadkeptanapartmentthereforyears，sublettingitwhenhewentabroadforanylengthoftime。
Besideshissleeping—roomandbath，therewasalargeroom，formerlyapainter’sstudio，whichheusedasastudyandoffice。Itwasfurnishedwiththecast—offpossessionsofhisbachelordaysandwithoddthingswhichheshelteredforfriendsofhiswhofolloweditinerantandmoreorlessartisticcallings。Overthefireplacetherewasalargeold—fashionedgiltmirror。
Alexander’sbigwork—tablestoodinfrontofoneofthethreewindows，andabovethecouchhungtheonepictureintheroom，abigcanvasofcharmingcolorandspirit，astudyoftheLuxembourgGardensinearlyspring，paintedinhisyouthbyamanwhohadsincebecomeaportrait—painterofinternationalrenown。HehaddoneitforAlexanderwhentheywerestudentstogetherinParis。
Sundaywasacold，rawdayandafinerainfellcontinuously。WhenAlexandercamebackfromdinnerheputmorewoodonhisfire，madehimselfcomfortable，andsettleddownathisdesk，wherehebegancheckingoverestimatesheets。Itwasafternineo’clockandhewaslightingasecondpipe，whenhethoughtheheardasoundathisdoor。Hestartedandlistened，holdingtheburningmatchinhishand；againheheardthesamesound，likeafirm，lighttap。Heroseandcrossedtheroomquickly。Whenhethrewopenthedoorherecognizedthefigurethatshrankbackintothebare，dimlylithallway。
Hestoodforamomentinawkwardconstraint，hispipeinhishand。
"Comein，"hesaidtoHildaatlast，andclosedthedoorbehindher。Hepointedtoachairbythefireandwentbacktohisworktable。
"Won’tyousitdown？"
Hewasstandingbehindthetable，turningoverapileofblueprintsnervously。
Theyellowlightfromthestudent’slampfellonhishandsandthepurplesleevesofhisvelvetsmoking—jacket，buthisflushedfaceandbig，hardheadwereintheshadow。TherewassomethingabouthimthatmadeHildawishherselfatherhotelagain，inthestreetbelow，anywherebutwhereshewas。
"OfcourseIknow，Bartley，"shesaidatlast，"thatafterthisyouwon’towemetheleastconsideration。ButwesailonTuesday。
Isawthatinterviewinthepaperyesterday，tellingwhereyouwere，andIthoughtIhadtoseeyou。That’sall。Good—night；I’mgoingnow。"
Sheturnedandherhandclosedonthedoor—knob。
Alexanderhurriedtowardherandtookhergentlybythearm。"Sitdown，Hilda；
you’rewetthrough。Letmetakeoffyourcoat——andyourboots；they’reoozingwater。"
Hekneltdownandbegantounlacehershoes，whileHildashrankintothechair。"Here，putyourfeetonthisstool。Youdon’tmeantosayyouwalkeddown——andwithoutovershoes!"
Hildahidherfaceinherhands。"Iwasafraidtotakeacab。Can’tyousee，Bartley，thatI’mterriblyfrightened？I’vebeenthroughthisahundredtimesto—day。Don’tbeanymoreangrythanyoucanhelp。IwasallrightuntilIknewyouwereintown。
Ifyou’dsentmeanote，ortelephonedme，oranything!Butyouwon’tletmewritetoyou，andIhadtoseeyouafterthatletter，thatterribleletteryouwrotemewhenyougothome。"
Alexanderfacedher，restinghisarmonthemantelbehindhim，andbegantobrushthesleeveofhisjacket。"Isthisthewayyoumeantoanswerit，Hilda？"heaskedunsteadily。
Shewasafraidtolookupathim。
"Didn’t——didn’tyoumeaneventosaygoodbytome，Bartley？Didyoumeanjustto——
quitme？"sheasked。"IcametotellyouthatI’mwillingtodoasyouaskedme。Butit’snousetalkingaboutthatnow。Givememythings，please。"Sheputherhandouttowardthefender。
Alexandersatdownonthearmofherchair。
"DidyouthinkIhadforgottenyouwereintown，Hilda？DoyouthinkIkeptawaybyaccident？
DidyousupposeIdidn’tknowyouweresailingonTuesday？
Thereisaletterforyouthere，inmydeskdrawer。
Itwastohavereachedyouonthesteamer。Iwasallthemorningwritingit。ItoldmyselfthatifIwerereallythinkingofyou，andnotofmyself，aletterwouldbebetterthannothing。
Marksonpapermeansomethingtoyou。"
Hepaused。"Theyneverdidtome。"
Hildasmiledupathimbeautifullyandputherhandonhissleeve。"Oh，Bartley!
Didyouwritetome？Whydidn’tyoutelephonemetoletmeknowthatyouhad？ThenIwouldn’thavecome。"
Alexanderslippedhisarmabouther。"Ididn’tknowitbefore，Hilda，onmyhonorIdidn’t，butIbelieveitwasbecause，deepdowninmesomewhere，IwashopingImightdriveyoutodojustthis。I’vewatchedthatdoorallday。I’vejumpedupifthefirecrackled。
IthinkIhavefeltthatyouwerecoming。"
Hebenthisfaceoverherhair。
"AndI，"shewhispered，——"Ifeltthatyouwerefeelingthat。
ButwhenIcame，IthoughtIhadbeenmistaken。"
Alexanderstartedupandbegantowalkupanddowntheroom。
"No，youweren’tmistaken。I’vebeenupinCanadawithmybridge，andIarrangednottocometoNewYorkuntilafteryouhadgone。Then，whenyourmanageraddedtwomoreweeks，Iwasalreadycommitted。"
Hedroppeduponthestoolinfrontofherandsatwithhishandshangingbetweenhisknees。
"WhatamItodo，Hilda？"
"That’swhatIwantedtoseeyouabout，Bartley。I’mgoingtodowhatyouaskedmetodowhenyouwereinLondon。OnlyI’lldoitmorecompletely。I’mgoingtomarry。"
"Who？"
"Oh，itdoesn’tmattermuch!Oneofthem。
OnlynotMac。I’mtoofondofhim。"
Alexandermovedrestlessly。"Areyoujoking，Hilda？"
"IndeedI’mnot。"
"Thenyoudon’tknowwhatyou’retalkingabout。"
"Yes，Iknowverywell。I’vethoughtaboutitagreatdeal，andI’vequitedecided。
Ineverusedtounderstandhowwomendidthingslikethat，butIknownow。It’sbecausetheycan’tbeatthemercyofthemantheyloveanylonger。"
Alexanderflushedangrily。"Soit’sbettertobeatthemercyofamanyoudon’tlove？"
"Undersuchcircumstances，infinitely!"
TherewasaflashinhereyesthatmadeAlexander’sfall。Hegotupandwentovertothewindow，threwitopen，andleanedout。
HeheardHildamovingaboutbehindhim。
Whenhelookedoverhisshouldershewaslacingherboots。Hewentbackandstoodoverher。
"Hildayou’dbetterthinkawhilelongerbeforeyoudothat。Idon’tknowwhatI
oughttosay，butIdon’tbelieveyou’dbehappy；trulyIdon’t。Aren’tyoutryingtofrightenme？"
Shetiedtheknotofthelastlacingandputherboot—heeldownfirmly。"No；I’mtellingyouwhatI’vemadeupmymindtodo。
IsupposeIwouldbetterdoitwithouttellingyou。
ButafterwardIshan’thaveanopportunitytoexplain，forIshan’tbeseeingyouagain。"
Alexanderstartedtospeak，butcaughthimself。
WhenHildarosehesatdownonthearmofherchairanddrewherbackintoit。
"Iwouldn’tbesomuchalarmedifIdidn’tknowhowutterlyrecklessyouCANbe。
Don’tdoanythinglikethatrashly。"
Hisfacegrewtroubled。"Youwouldn’tbehappy。
Youarenotthatkindofwoman。I’dneverhaveanotherhour’speaceifIhelpedtomakeyoudoathinglikethat。"Hetookherfacebetweenhishandsandlookeddownintoit。
"Yousee，youaredifferent，Hilda。Don’tyouknowyouare？"Hisvoicegrewsofter，histouchmoreandmoretender。"Somewomencandothatsortofthing，butyou——youcanloveasqueensdid，intheoldtime。"
Hildahadheardthatsoft，deeptoneinhisvoiceonlyoncebefore。Sheclosedhereyes；
herlipsandeyelidstrembled。"Onlyone，Bartley。
Onlyone。Andhethrewitbackatmeasecondtime。"
Shefeltthestrengthleapinthearmsthatheldhersolightly。
"Tryhimagain，Hilda。Tryhimonceagain。"
Shelookedupintohiseyes，andhidherfaceinherhands。
CHAPTERX
OnTuesdayafternoonaBostonlawyer，whohadbeentryingacaseinVermont，wasstandingonthesidingatWhiteRiverJunctionwhentheCanadianExpresspulledbyonitsnorthwardjourney。Astheday—coachesattherearendofthelongtrainsweptbyhim，thelawyernoticedatoneofthewindowsaman’shead，withthickrumpledhair。
"Curious，"hethought；"thatlookedlikeAlexander，butwhatwouldhebedoingbackthereinthedaycoaches？"
Itwas，indeed，Alexander。
ThatmorningatelegramfromMoorlockhadreachedhim，tellinghimthattherewasserioustroublewiththebridgeandthathewasneededthereatonce，sohehadcaughtthefirsttrainoutofNewYork。Hehadtakenaseatinaday—coachtoavoidtheriskofmeetinganyoneheknew，andbecausehedidnotwishtobecomfortable。Whenthetelegramarrived，AlexanderwasathisroomsonTenthStreet，packinghisbagtogotoBoston。
OnMondaynighthehadwrittenalonglettertohiswife，butwhenmorningcamehewasafraidtosendit，andtheletterwasstillinhispocket。Winifredwasnotawomanwhocouldbeardisappointment。Shedemandedagreatdealofherselfandofthepeoplesheloved；andsheneverfailedherself。
Ifhetoldhernow，heknew，itwouldbeirretrievable。Therewouldbenogoingback。
Hewouldlosethethinghevaluedmostintheworld；hewouldbedestroyinghimselfandhisownhappiness。Therewouldbenothingforhimafterward。HeseemedtoseehimselfdraggingoutarestlessexistenceontheContinent——Cannes，Hyeres，Algiers，Cairo——
amongsmartlydressed，disabledmenofeverynationality；forevergoingonjourneysthatlednowhere；hurryingtocatchtrainsthathemightjustaswellmiss；gettingupinthemorningwithagreatbustleandsplashingofwater，tobeginadaythathadnopurposeandnomeaning；dininglatetoshortenthenight，sleepinglatetoshortentheday。
Andforwhat？Foramerefolly，amasquerade，alittlethingthathecouldnotletgo。
ANDHECOULDEVENLETITGO，hetoldhimself。
ButhehadpromisedtobeinLondonatmid—
summer，andheknewthathewouldgo……
Itwasimpossibletolivelikethisanylonger。
Andthis，then，wastobethedisasterthathisoldprofessorhadforeseenforhim：
thecrackinthewall，thecrash，thecloudofdust。Andhecouldnotunderstandhowithadcomeabout。Hefeltthathehimselfwasunchanged，thathewasstillthere，thesamemanhehadbeenfiveyearsago，andthathewassittingstupidlybyandlettingsomeresoluteoffshootofhimselfspoilhislifeforhim。Thisnewforcewasnothe，itwasbutapartofhim。Hewouldnotevenadmitthatitwasstrongerthanhe；butitwasmoreactive。
Itwasbyitsenergythatthisnewfeelinggotthebetterofhim。Hiswifewasthewomanwhohadmadehislife，gratifiedhispride，givendirectiontohistastesandhabits。
Thelifetheyledtogetherseemedtohimbeautiful。
Winifredstillwas，asshehadalwaysbeen，Romanceforhim，andwheneverhewasdeeplystirredheturnedtoher。Whenthegrandeurandbeautyoftheworldchallengedhim——
asitchallengeseventhemostself—absorbedpeople——
healwaysansweredwithhername。Thatwashisreplytothequestionputbythemountainsandthestars；
toallthespiritualaspectsoflife。Inhisfeelingforhiswifetherewasallthetenderness，allthepride，allthedevotionofwhichhewascapable。Therewaseverythingbutenergy；
theenergyofyouthwhichmustregisteritselfandcutitsnamebeforeitpasses。Thisnewfeelingwassofresh，sounsatisfiedandlightoffoot。Itranandwasnotwearied，anticipatedhimeverywhere。ItputagirdleroundtheearthwhilehewasgoingfromNewYorktoMoorlock。Atthismoment，itwastinglingthroughhim，exultant，andliveasquicksilver，whispering，"InJulyyouwillbeinEngland。"
Alreadyhedreadedthelong，emptydaysatsea，themonotonousIrishcoast，thesluggishpassageuptheMersey，theflashoftheboattrainthroughthesummercountry。
Heclosedhiseyesandgavehimselfuptothefeelingofrapidmotionandtoswift，terrifyingthoughts。Hewassittingso，hisfaceshadedbyhishand，whentheBostonlawyersawhimfromthesidingatWhiteRiverJunction。
WhenatlastAlexanderrousedhimself，theafternoonhadwanedtosunset。Thetrainwaspassingthroughagraycountryandtheskyoverheadwasflushedwithawidefloodofclearcolor。Therewasarose—coloredlightoverthegrayrocksandhillsandmeadows。
Offtotheleft，undertheapproachofaweather—stainedwoodenbridge，agroupofboysweresittingaroundalittlefire。
Thesmellofthewoodsmokeblewinatthewindow。
Exceptforanoldfarmer，joggingalongthehighroadinhisbox—wagon，therewasnotanotherlivingcreaturetobeseen。Alexanderlookedbackwistfullyattheboys，campedontheedgeofalittlemarsh，crouchingundertheirshelterandlookinggravelyattheirfire。Theytookhismindbackalongway，toacampfireonasandbarinaWesternriver，andhewishedhecouldgobackandsitdownwiththem。
Hecouldrememberexactlyhowtheworldhadlookedthen。
ItwasquitedarkandAlexanderwasstillthinkingoftheboys，whenitoccurredtohimthatthetrainmustbenearingAllway。
IngoingtohisnewbridgeatMoorlockhehadalwaystopassthroughAllway。ThetrainstoppedatAllwayMills，thenwoundtwomilesuptheriver，andthenthehollowsoundunderhisfeettoldBartleythathewasonhisfirstbridgeagain。Thebridgeseemedlongerthanithadeverseemedbefore，andhewasgladwhenhefeltthebeatofthewheelsonthesolidroadbedagain。Hedidnotlikecomingandgoingacrossthatbridge，orrememberingthemanwhobuiltit。Andwashe，indeed，thesamemanwhousedtowalkthatbridgeatnight，promisingsuchthingstohimselfandtothestars？Andyet，hecouldrememberitallsowell：thequiethillssleepinginthemoonlight，theslenderskeletonofthebridgereachingoutintotheriver，andupyonder，aloneonthehill，thebigwhitehouse；
upstairs，inWinifred’swindow，thelightthattoldhimshewasstillawakeandstillthinkingofhim。
Andafterthelightwentouthewalkedalone，takingtheheavensintohisconfidence，unabletotearhimselfawayfromthewhitemagicofthenight，unwillingtosleepbecauselongingwassosweettohim，andbecause，forthefirsttimesincefirstthehillswerehungwithmoonlight，therewasaloverintheworld。
Andalwaystherewasthesoundoftherushingwaterunderneath，thesoundwhich，morethananythingelse，meantdeath；thewearingawayofthingsundertheimpactofphysicalforceswhichmencoulddirectbutnevercircumventordiminish。
Then，intheexaltationoflove，morethaneveritseemedtohimtomeandeath，theonlyotherthingasstrongaslove。Underthemoon，underthecold，splendidstars，therewereonlythosetwothingsawakeandsleepless；deathandlove，therushingriverandhisburningheart。
Alexandersatupandlookedabouthim。
Thetrainwastearingonthroughthedarkness。
Allhiscompanionsintheday—coachwereeitherdozingorsleepingheavily，andthemurkylampswereturnedlow。
Howcamehehereamongallthesedirtypeople？
WhywashegoingtoLondon？Whatdiditmean——whatwastheanswer？Howcouldthishappentoamanwhohadlivedthroughthatmagicalspringandsummer，andwhohadfeltthatthestarsthemselveswerebutflamingparticlesinthefar—awayinfinitudesofhislove？
Whathadhedonetoloseit？Howcouldheendurethebasenessoflifewithoutit？
Andwitheveryrevolutionofthewheelsbeneathhim，theunquietquicksilverinhisbreasttoldhimthatatmidsummerhewouldbeinLondon。
Herememberedhislastnightthere：theredfoggydarkness，thehungrycrowdsbeforethetheatres，thehand—organs，thefeverishrhythmoftheblurred，crowdedstreets，andthefeelingoflettinghimselfgowiththecrowd。Heshudderedandlookedabouthimatthepoorunconsciouscompanionsofhisjourney，unkemptandtravel—stained，nowdoubledinunlovelyattitudes，whohadcometostandtohimfortheuglinesshehadbroughtintotheworld。
Andthoseboysbackthere，beginningitalljustashehadbegunit；hewishedhecouldpromisethembetterluck。Ah，ifonecouldpromiseanyonebetterluck，ifonecouldassureasinglehumanbeingofhappiness!
Hehadthoughthecoulddoso，once；
anditwasthinkingofthatthatheatlastfellasleep。Inhissleep，asifithadnothingfreshertoworkupon，hismindwentbackandtortureditselfwithsomethingyearsandyearsaway，anold，long—forgottensorrowofhischildhood。
WhenAlexanderawokeinthemorning，thesunwasjustrisingthroughpalegoldenripplesofcloud，andthefreshyellowlightwasvibratingthroughthepinewoods。
Thewhitebirches，withtheirlittleunfoldingleaves，gleamedinthelowlands，andthemarshmeadowswerealreadycomingtolifewiththeirfirstgreen，athin，brightcolorwhichhadrunoverthemlikefire。Asthetrainrushedalongthetrestles，thousandsofwildbirdsrosescreamingintothelight。
Theskywasalreadyapaleblueandoftheclearnessofcrystal。BartleycaughtuphisbagandhurriedthroughthePullmancoachesuntilhefoundtheconductor。Therewasastateroomunoccupied，andhetookitandsetaboutchanginghisclothes。
Lastnighthewouldnothavebelievedthatanythingcouldbesopleasantasthecoldwaterhedashedoverhisheadandshouldersandthefreshnessofcleanlinenonhisbody。
Afterhehaddressed，Alexandersatdownatthewindowanddrewintohislungsdeepbreathsofthepine—scentedair。
Hehadawakenedwithallhisoldsenseofpower。
Hecouldnotbelievethatthingswereasbadwithhimastheyhadseemedlastnight，thattherewasnowaytosetthementirelyright。
EvenifhewenttoLondonatmidsummer，whatwouldthatmeanexceptthathewasafool？
Andhehadbeenafoolbefore。Thatwasnottherealityofhislife。YetheknewthathewouldgotoLondon。
HalfanhourlaterthetrainstoppedatMoorlock。Alexandersprangtotheplatformandhurriedupthesiding，wavingtoPhilipHorton，oneofhisassistants，whowasanxiouslylookingupatthewindowsofthecoaches。Bartleytookhisarmandtheywenttogetherintothestationbuffet。
"I’llhavemycoffeefirst，Philip。
Haveyouhadyours？Andnow，whatseemstobethematteruphere？"
Theyoungman，inahurried，nervousway，beganhisexplanation。
ButAlexandercuthimshort。"Whendidyoustopwork？"heaskedsharply。
Theyoungengineerlookedconfused。
"Ihaven’tstoppedworkyet，Mr。Alexander。
Ididn’tfeelthatIcouldgosofarwithoutdefiniteauthorizationfromyou。"
"Thenwhydidn’tyousayinyourtelegramexactlywhatyouthought，andaskforyourauthorization？You’dhavegotitquickenough。"
"Well，really，Mr。Alexander，Icouldn’tbeabsolutelysure，youknow，andIdidn’tliketotaketheresponsibilityofmakingitpublic。"
Alexanderpushedbackhischairandrose。
"AnythingIdocanbemadepublic，Phil。
Yousaythatyoubelievethelowerchordsareshowingstrain，andthateventheworkmenhavebeentalkingaboutit，andyetyou’vegoneonaddingweight。"
"I’msorry，Mr。Alexander，butIhadcountedonyourgettinghereyesterday。
Myfirsttelegrammissedyousomehow。
IsentoneSundayevening，tothesameaddress，butitwasreturnedtome。"
"Haveyouacarriageoutthere？
Imuststoptosendawire。"
Alexanderwentuptothetelegraph—deskandpenciledthefollowingmessagetohiswife：——
Imayhavetobehereforsometime。
Canyoucomeupatonce？Urgent。
BARTLEY。
TheMoorlockBridgelaythreemilesabovethetown。Whentheywereseatedinthecarriage，Alexanderbegantoquestionhisassistantfurther。Ifitweretruethatthecompressionmembersshowedstrain，withthebridgeonlytwothirdsdone，thentherewasnothingtodobutpullthewholestructuredownandbeginoveragain。Hortonkeptrepeatingthathewassuretherecouldbenothingwrongwiththeestimates。
Alexandergrewimpatient。"That’salltrue，Phil，butweneverwerejustifiedinassumingthatascalethatwasperfectlysafeforanordinarybridgewouldworkwithanythingofsuchlength。It’sallverywellonpaper，butitremainstobeseenwhetheritcanbedoneinpractice。Ishouldhavethrownupthejobwhentheycrowdedme。It’sallnonsensetotrytodowhatotherengineersaredoingwhenyouknowthey’renotsound。"
"Butjustnow，whenthereissuchcompetition，"
theyoungermandemurred。"Andcertainlythat’sthenewlineofdevelopment。"
Alexandershruggedhisshouldersandmadenoreply。
Whentheyreachedthebridgeworks，Alexanderbeganhisexaminationimmediately。
Anhourlaterhesentforthesuperintendent。
"Ithinkyouhadbetterstopworkoutthereatonce，Dan。Ishouldsaythatthelowerchordheremightbuckleatanymoment。ItoldtheCommissionthatwewereusinghigherunitstressesthananypracticehasestablished，andwe’veputthedeadloadatalowestimate。
Theoreticallyitworkedoutwellenough，butithadneveractuallybeentried。"
Alexanderputonhisovercoatandtookthesuperintendentbythearm。"Don’tlooksochopfallen，Dan。It’sajolt，butwe’vegottofaceit。Itisn’ttheendoftheworld，youknow。Nowwe’llgooutandcallthemenoffquietly。They’realreadynervous，Hortontellsme，andthere’snousealarmingthem。
I’llgowithyou，andwe’llsendtheendrivetersinfirst。"
Alexanderandthesuperintendentpickedtheirwayoutslowlyoverthelongspan。
Theywentdeliberately，stoppingtoseewhateachgangwasdoing，asiftheywereonanordinaryroundofinspection。Whentheyreachedtheendoftheriverspan，Alexandernoddedtothesuperintendent，whoquietlygaveanordertotheforeman。Themenintheendgangpickeduptheirtoolsand，glancingcuriouslyateachother，startedbackacrossthebridgetowardtheriver—bank。Alexanderhimselfremainedstandingwheretheyhadbeenworking，lookingabouthim。Itwashardtobelieve，ashelookedbackoverit，thatthewholegreatspanwasincurablydisabled，wasalreadyasgoodascondemned，becausesomethingwasoutoflineinthelowerchordofthecantileverarm。
Theendrivetershadreachedthebankandweredispersingamongthetool—houses，andthesecondganghadpickeduptheirtoolsandwerestartingtowardtheshore。Alexander，stillstandingattheendoftheriverspan，sawthelowerchordofthecantileverarmgivealittle，likeanelbowbending。
Heshoutedandranafterthesecondgang，butbythistimeeveryoneknewthatthebigriverspanwasslowlysettling。Therewasaburstofshoutingthatwasimmediatelydrownedbythescreamandcrackingoftearingiron，asallthetensionworkbegantopullasunder。
Oncethechordsbegantobuckle，therewerethousandsoftonsofironwork，allrivetedtogetherandlyinginmidairwithoutsupport。Ittoreitselftopieceswithroaringandgrindingandnoisesthatwereliketheshrieksofasteamwhistle。
Therewasnoshockofanykind；thebridgehadnoimpetusexceptfromitsownweight。
Itlurchedneithertorightnorleft，butsankalmostinaverticalline，snappingandbreakingandtearingasitwent，becausenointegralpartcouldbearforaninstanttheenormousstrainlooseduponit。
Someofthemenjumpedandsomeran，tryingtomaketheshore。
Atthefirstshriekofthetearingiron，Alexanderjumpedfromthedownstreamsideofthebridge。Hestruckthewaterwithoutinjuryanddisappeared。Hewasundertheriveralongtimeandhadgreatdifficultyinholdinghisbreath。Whenitseemedimpossible，andhischestwasabouttoheave，hethoughtheheardhiswifetellinghimthathecouldholdoutalittlelonger。Aninstantlaterhisfaceclearedthewater。
Foramoment，inthedepthsoftheriver，hehadrealizedwhatitwouldmeantodieahypocrite，andtoliedeadunderthelastabandonmentofhertenderness。
Butonceinthelightandair，heknewheshouldlivetotellherandtorecoverallhehadlost。
Now，atlast，hefeltsureofhimself。
Hewasnotstartled。Itseemedtohimthathehadbeenthroughsomethingofthissortbefore。Therewasnothinghorribleaboutit。This，too，waslife，andlifewasactivity，justasitwasinBostonorinLondon。
Hewashimself，andtherewassomethingtobedone；everythingseemedperfectlynatural。Alexanderwasastrongswimmer，buthehadgonescarcelyadozenstrokeswhenthebridgeitself，whichhadbeensettlingfasterandfaster，crashedintothewaterbehindhim。Immediatelytheriverwasfullofdrowningmen。AgangofFrenchCanadiansfellalmostontopofhim。Hethoughthehadclearedthem，whentheybegancomingupallaroundhim，clutchingathimandateachother。Someofthemcouldswim，buttheywereeitherhurtorcrazedwithfright。
Alexandertriedtobeatthemoff，butthereweretoomanyofthem。Onecaughthimabouttheneck，anothergrippedhimaboutthemiddle，andtheywentdowntogether。Whenhesank，hiswifeseemedtobethereinthewaterbesidehim，tellinghimtokeephishead，thatifhecouldholdoutthemenwoulddrownandreleasehim。Therewassomethinghewantedtotellhiswife，buthecouldnotthinkclearlyfortheroaringinhisears。
Suddenlyherememberedwhatitwas。
Hecaughthisbreath，andthenshelethimgo。
Theworkofrecoveringthedeadwentonalldayandallthefollowingnight。
Bythenextmorningforty—eightbodieshadbeentakenoutoftheriver，buttherewerestilltwentymissing。Manyofthemenhadfallenwiththebridgeandwerehelddownunderthedebris。Earlyonthemorningoftheseconddayaclosedcarriagewasdrivenslowlyalongtheriver—bankandstoppedalittlebelowtheworks，wheretheriverboiledandchurnedaboutthegreatironcarcasswhichlayinastraightlinetwothirdsacrossit。
Thecarriagestoodtherehourafterhour，andwordsoonspreadamongthecrowdsontheshorethatitsoccupantwasthewifeoftheChiefEngineer；hisbodyhadnotyetbeenfound。Thewidowsofthelostworkmen，movingupanddownthebankwithshawlsovertheirheads，someofthemcarryingbabies，lookedattherustyhiredhackmanytimesthatmorning。Theydrewnearitandwalkedaboutit，butnoneofthemventuredtopeerwithin。Evenhalf—indifferentsight—
seersdroppedtheirvoicesastheytoldanewcomer："Youseethatcarriageoverthere？
That’sMrs。Alexander。Theyhaven’tfoundhimyet。Shegotoffthetrainthismorning。
Hortonmether。ShehearditinBostonyesterday——heardthenewsboyscryingitinthestreet。
AtnoonPhilipHortonmadehiswaythroughthecrowdwithatrayandatincoffee—potfromthecampkitchen。WhenhereachedthecarriagehefoundMrs。Alexanderjustashehadleftherintheearlymorning，leaningforwardalittle，withherhandontheloweredwindow，lookingattheriver。Hourafterhourshehadbeenwatchingthewater，thelonely，uselessstonetowers，andtheconvulsedmassofironwreckageoverwhichtheangryrivercontinuallyspatupitsyellowfoam。
"Thosepoorwomenoutthere，dotheyblamehimverymuch？"sheasked，asshehandedthecoffee—cupbacktoHorton。
"Nobodyblameshim，Mrs。Alexander。
Ifanyoneistoblame，I’mafraidit’sI。
Ishouldhavestoppedworkbeforehecame。
HesaidsoassoonasImethim。Itriedtogethimhereadayearlier，butmytelegrammissedhim，somehow。Hedidn’thavetimereallytoexplaintome。Ifhe’dgothereMonday，he’dhavehadallthemenoffatonce。
But，yousee，Mrs。Alexander，suchathingneverhappenedbefore。Accordingtoallhumancalculations，itsimplycouldn’thappen。"
Hortonleanedwearilyagainstthefrontwheelofthecab。Hehadnothadhisclothesoffforthirtyhours，andthestimulusofviolentexcitementwasbeginningtowearoff。
"Don’tbeafraidtotellmetheworst，Mr。Horton。Don’tleavemetothedreadoffindingoutthingsthatpeoplemaybesaying。
Ifheisblamed，ifheneedsanyonetospeakforhim，"——forthefirsttimehervoicebrokeandaflushoflife，tearful，painful，andconfused，sweptoverherrigidpallor，——
"ifheneedsanyone，tellme，showmewhattodo。"
Shebegantosob，andHortonhurriedaway。
Whenhecamebackatfouro’clockintheafternoonhewascarryinghishatinhishand，andWinifredknewassoonasshesawhimthattheyhadfoundBartley。Sheopenedthecarriagedoorbeforehereachedherandsteppedtotheground。
Hortonputouthishandasiftoholdherbackandspokepleadingly："Won’tyoudriveuptomyhouse，Mrs。Alexander？Theywilltakehimupthere。"
"Takemetohimnow，please。Ishallnotmakeanytrouble。"
Thegroupofmendownundertheriverbankfellbackwhentheysawawomancoming，andoneofthemthrewatarpaulinoverthestretcher。TheytookofftheirhatsandcapsasWinifredapproached，andalthoughshehadpulledherveildownoverherfacetheydidnotlookupather。ShewastallerthanHorton，andsomeofthementhoughtshewasthetallestwomantheyhadeverseen。
"Astallashimself，"someonewhispered。
Hortonmotionedtothemen，andsixofthemliftedthestretcherandbegantocarryituptheembankment。Winifredfollowedthemthehalf—miletoHorton’shouse。Shewalkedquietly，withoutoncebreakingorstumbling。
WhenthebearersputthestretcherdowninHorton’ssparebedroom，shethankedthemandgaveherhandtoeachinturn。Themenwentoutofthehouseandthroughtheyardwiththeircapsintheirhands。Theyweretoomuchconfusedtosayanythingastheywentdownthehill。
Hortonhimselfwasalmostasdeeplyperplexed。
"Mamie，"hesaidtohiswife，whenhecameoutofthespareroomhalfanhourlater，"willyoutakeMrs。Alexanderthethingssheneeds？Sheisgoingtodoeverythingherself。Juststayaboutwhereyoucanhearherandgoinifshewantsyou。"
EverythinghappenedasAlexanderhadforeseeninthatmomentofprescienceundertheriver。Withherownhandsshewashedhimcleanofeverymarkofdisaster。Allnighthewasalonewithherinthestillhouse，hisgreatheadlyingdeepinthepillow。
InthepocketofhiscoatWinifredfoundtheletterthathehadwrittenherthenightbeforeheleftNewYork，water—soakedandillegible，butbecauseofitslength，sheknewithadbeenmeantforher。
ForAlexanderdeathwasaneasycreditor。
Fortune，whichhadsmileduponhimconsistentlyallhislife，didnotdeserthimintheend。Hisharshestcriticsdidnotdoubtthat，hadhelived，hewouldhaveretrievedhimself。
EvenLuciusWilsondidnotseeinthisaccidentthedisasterhehadonceforetold。
Whenagreatmandiesinhisprimethereisnosurgeonwhocansaywhetherhedidwell；
whetherornotthefuturewashis，asitseemedtobe。Themindthatsocietyhadcometoregardasapowerfulandreliablemachine，dedicatedtoitsservice，mayforalongtimehavebeensickwithinitselfandbentuponitsowndestruction。
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