had so often travelled in the old days. It led toward the river, and
along the steep bank of the rapid noisy stream. The chill wind of an
early autumn night moaned sadly in the tall trees, and the dead leaves
under my feet rustled a sad accompaniment to my thoughts, which at
last, unhooded, flew back to the past.

Below rushed the river, whose torrent had ever been an accompaniment
to all my recollections of her--as inseparable from them as the color
of her eyes, or the tones of her voice.

I could not but contrast my present calm with the mad humor in which I
had last rushed down the slope I was so quietly climbing. As I went
forward, I began to ask myself, "Why?" I could not answer that, but I
began to hurry.

Suddenly I stopped.

The moon had emerged above the trees on the opposite side of the
river. It struck and illumined something white above me. I was
standing exactly where I had stood on that fatal tenth of August, so
many years before.

I came to my senses as if by an electric shock.

At last everything was clear to me. At last I understood whence had
gone all my vanity and jealousy. At last I understood the spell of
peace that had settled on me in that moonlit tenth of August, in that
far off city.

My burden had passed through the Valley of the Shadow of Death with