And as the man was speaking the frenzied words the look of a tiger had come into his face; his eyes were starting from his head, and he held Helen’s wrists in a grip that turned them black, tho then she did not feel the pain.  She was gazing into his face, convulsed with fright; and the man gasped for breath once more, and then rushed on: 

“A fight like this conies once to a soul, Helen—­and it wins or it loses—­and you must win!  Do you hear me?—­Win! I am dying, Helen, I am going—­and I leave you to God, and to life.  He is, He made you, and He demands your worship and your faith—­that you hold your soul lord of all chances, that you make yourself master of your life!  And now is your call—­now!  You clench your hands and you pray—­it tears your heart-strings, and it bursts your brain—­but you say that you will—­that you will—­that you will! Oh, God, that I have left you so helpless—­that I did not show you the peril of your soul!  For you must win—­oh, if I could but find a word for you!  For you stand upon the brink of ruin, and you have but an instant—­but an instant to save yourself—­to call up the vision of your faith before you, and tho the effort kill you, not to let it go!  Girl, if you fail, no power of earth or heaven can save you from despair!  And oh, have I lived with you for nothing—­showed you no faith—­given you no power?  Helen, save me—­have mercy upon me, I cannot stand this, and I dare not—­I dare not die!”

The man was leaning forward, gazing into the girl’s face, his own countenance fearful to see.  “I could die,” he gasped; “I could die with a song—­He has shown me His face—­and He is good!  But I dare not leave you—­you—­and I am going!  Helen!  Helen!”

The man’s fearful force seemed to have been acting upon the girl like magnetism, for tho the look of wild suffering had not left her face, she had raised herself and was staring into his burning eyes; then suddenly, with an effort that shook her frame she clenched her hands and gave a gasp for breath, and panted, scarcely audibly:  “What—­can—­I—­do?”

David’s head had sunk, but he mastered himself once more; and he whispered, “I leave you to God—­I leave you to life!  You can be a soul,—­you can win—­you must win, you must live—­and worship—­ and rejoice!  You must kneel here—­here, while I am going, never more to return; and you must know that you can never see me again, that I shall no longer exist; and you must cling to your faith in the God who made you, and praise Him for all that He does!  And you will not shed a tear—­not a tear!”

And his grip tightened yet more desperately; he stared in one last wild appeal, and gasped again, “Promise me—­not a tear!”

And again the throbbing force of his soul roused the girl; she could not speak, she was choking; but she gave a sign of assent, and then all at once David’s fearful hold relaxed.  He gave one look more, one that stamped itself upon Helen’s soul forever by its fearful intensity of yearning; and after it he breathed a sigh that seemed to pant out the last mite of strength in his frame, and sank backwards upon the sofa, with Helen still clinging to him.