It may have been at one of these strained moments that Northrup slept; he was never able to decide. He seemed to hold to the twinkling lights; he thought he heard sounds––the elevator just outside his door; the rising wind.
However that may be, as clearly as any impression ever fixed itself upon his consciousness, he saw Mary-Clare beside him in her stained and ugly garb, her lovely hair ruffled as if she had been travelling fast, and her great eyes turned upon him gladly. She was panting a bit; smiling and thankful that she had found him, at last in his city!
It was like being with her on that day when they stood on the mountain near her cabin and talked.
Northrup was spellbound. He understood, though no word passed between him and the girl so close to him. She did not try to touch him, but she did, presently, move a step 236 nearer and lay her little work-worn hand upon the pile of manuscript in that quaint way of hers that had so often made Northrup smile. It was a reverent touch.
Standing so, she sealed from him those last chapters! She would not argue or be set aside––she claimed her woman-right; the right to the truth as some women saw it, as more would see it; as, God willing, Northrup himself would see it some day! He would know that it was because of love that she had turned him and herself to duty.
Northrup suddenly found himself on his feet.
The little room was dark; the city was blazing about him––under him. His city! His hand lay upon his manuscript.
Quietly he took it up and locked it in his safe. Slowly, reverently, he set the bare room in order without turning on the electricity. He worked in the dark but his vision was never clearer. He went out, locked the door, as one does upon a chamber, sacred and secret.
He did not think of Mary-Clare, his mother, or Kathryn––he was setting forth to do that which had to be done; he was going to give what was his to give to that struggle across the ocean for right; the proving of right.
All along, his unrest had been caused by the warring elements in himself––there was only one way out––he must take it and be proved as the world was being proved.