All this work kept him up long after midnight. When it was finished, he gathered all the documents together and took them with him up to his bedroom, and locked them in the upper drawers of his bureau.
Finally, with the guiltiest conscience, the darkest spirit and the heaviest heart that he had ever experienced in his young life, he laid himself down on his bed. He could not sleep, and he dared not pray. Never before had he laid down to rest without having prayed. But how could he pray now, when he was deliberately planning to break, and make others break, one of the most awful commandments in the decalogue?
So the boy lay awake through all the long and dreary night, waiting for the day. What would the day bring forth? Where would he be the next night?
“If it were only my life that was to be taken! Even if it were only my soul that was to be risked! But the awful fiat of the Most High to be broken! Purposely, deliberately broken! Oh, Heaven! how one man’s sin makes many men’s crimes!”
So thinking, so feeling, so suffering, Le passed the most miserable night of his whole life.
The gray light of the winter day dawned at last.
Then Le arose and slowly dressed himself.
Roland, he thought, would soon be with him, bringing the acceptance of his challenge and the program of the hostile meeting.
Slowly he descended the stairs and entered the parlor.
Early as it was, the window shutters had been opened, the fire kindled and the room put in order.