She seemed to sway above the gleaming water. Even then—even then—he was not sure of her—till he saw her face of childish purity and the happy smile of greeting in her eyes!
"How very tired you must be!" she said.
"I am, Jeanie! I am!" he groaned in answer. "These chains—these iron bars—I shall never get free!"
He saw her white arms reach out to him. He thought her fingers touched his brow. And he knew quite suddenly that the journey was over, and he could lie down and rest.
Her voice came to him very softly, with a hushing tenderness through the miniature rush and gurgle of the water. As usual she sought to comfort him, but he heard a thrill of triumph as well as sympathy in her words.
"He hath broken the gates of brass," she said. "And smitten the bars of iron in sunder."
His fingers closed upon the edge of the pool. He felt the water splash his face as he sank down; and though he was too spent to drink he thanked God for bringing him thither.
Later it seemed to him that a Divine Presence came through the garden, that Someone stooped and touched him, and lo, his chains were broken and his burden gone! And he roused himself to ask for pardon; which was granted to him ere that Presence passed away.
He never knew exactly what happened after that night in the garden of the ruined château. There were a great many happenings, but none of them seemed to concern him very vitally.
He wandered through great spaces of oblivion, intersected with terrible streaks of excruciating pain. During the intervals of this fearful suffering he was acutely conscious, but he invariably forgot everything again when the merciful unconsciousness came back. He knew in a vague way that he lay in a hospital-tent with other dying men, knew when they moved him at last because he could not die, suffered agonies unutterable upon an endless road that never seemed to lead to anywhere, and finally awoke to find that the journey had been over for several days.