As the torturing jealousy dropped from me, a gentle sadness took its
place. In an instant my mind was made up. I would go back.

This idea, which had never come to me in ten years, seemed now
perfectly natural. I would return at once to that far off village
where, for a brief hour, I had dwelt in a "Fool's Paradise," through
which my way had lain but a brief span, and where I had passed, like
the fabled bird, that "floats through Heaven, but cannot light."

* * * * *

I remember but little of the journey home, save that it was long, and
that I slept much. But whether it was months or years I never knew. I
seemed to be making up what I had lost in ten years. Time occupied
itself in restoring the balance I had taken so much pains to upset.

It was night when I reached the place at last.

I found it as I had left it. Had a magic sleep settled there it could
not have been less changed.

I was recognized in the small bare office of the one tavern. I felt
that my sudden appearance surprised no one. But I did not wonder why.

Oddly enough, I never asked a question. I had not even questioned
myself as to what I expected to find. Years afterward I was convinced,
in reviewing the matter, that my soul had known from the first.

I dined alone, quite calmly, after which I stepped out into the
starlight. I turned up the hill, and struck into the familiar road I