He lay trembling and breathing fast again, but sinking back from his effort and closing his eyes exhaustedly.  After a long time he went on in a faint voice, “I suppose if I had lived long ago that would have been a vision of God’s heaven; and yet there was not an instant of it—­even when I fell down upon the ground and when I struck my hands upon the stones because they were numb and burning—­when I did not know just what it was, the surging passion of my soul flung loose at last!  It was like the voices of the stars and the mountains, that whisper of that which is and which conquers, of That which conquers without sound or sign; Helen, I thought of that wonderful testament of Pascal’s that has haunted me all my lifetime,—­those strange, wild, gasping words of a soul gone mad with awe, and beyond all utterance except a cry,—­’Joy, joy, tears of joy!’ And I thought of a still more fearful story, I thought that it must have been such thunder-music that rang through the soul of the Master and swept Him away beyond scorn and pain, so that the men about Him seemed like jeering phantoms that He might scatter with His hand, before the glory of vision in which it was all one to live or die.  Oh, it is that which has brought me my peace!  God needs not our help, but only our worship; and beside His glory all our guilt is nothing, and there is no madness like our fear.  And oh, if we can only hold to that and fight for it, conquer all temptation and all pain—­all fear because we must die, and cease to be—­”

The man had clenched his hands again, and was lifting himself with the wild look upon his countenance; he seemed to the girl to be delirious, and she was shuddering, half with awe and half with terror.  She interrupted him in a sudden burst of alarm:  “Yes, yes,—­but David, David, not now, not now—­it is too much—­you will kill yourself!”

“I can die,” he panted, “I can die, but I cannot ever be mastered again, never again be blind!  Oh, Helen, all my life I have been lost and beaten—­beaten by my weakness and my fear; but this once, this once I was free, this once I knew, and I lived; and now I can die rejoicing!  Listen to me, Helen; while I am here there can be no more delaying,—­no more weakness!  Such sin and doubt as that of yesterday must never conquer my soul again, I will not any more be at the mercy of chance.  I love you, Helen, God knows that I love you with all my soul; and this much for love I will do, if God spares me a day,—­take you, and tear the heart out of you, if need be, but only teach you to live, teach you to hold by this Truth.  It is a fearful thing, Helen; it is madness to me to know that at any instant I may cease to be, and that you may be left alone in your terror and your weakness.  Oh, look at me,—­look at me!  There is no more tempting fate, there is no more shirking the battle—­there is life, there is life to be lived!  And it calls to you now,—­now! And now you must win,—­cost just what it