“Are you listening?” he asked.
“Listening!” Her voice carried conviction, so the lad continued.
“For a fortnight he lived a dream––and that dream was Paradise. He forgot the past, ignored the future, and lived solely for the moment––with the joy of Nature’s own child. It was the pure love of the idealist and the dreamer––it was divine. 274
“Then came the reaction. One day he awoke––saw things as they were––saw again the satire of Fate. At the very time he left for college, she returned––a graduate. She was young, beautiful, accomplished. He was a mere farmhand, without money or education, homeless, obscure. The thought was maddening, and one day he suddenly disappeared from camp. He didn’t say good-bye to any one; he felt he had no apology that he could offer. But he had to go, for he felt the necessity for work, longed for it, as a drunkard longs for liquor.”
“Oh!” The exclamation came from the lips of the girl beside him. “I––we––all wondered why––.”
“Well, that was why.
“He fell in with a threshing-crew, and asked to work for his board. They thought him queer, but accepted his offer. For two days he stayed with them, doing the work of two men. It seemed as if he couldn’t do enough––he couldn’t become tired. He wanted to think it all out, and he couldn’t with the fever in his blood.
“At night he couldn’t sleep––Nature was 275 pitiless. He would walk the road for miles until morning.
“With the third day came relief. All at once he felt fearfully tired, and fell asleep where he stood. Several of the crew carried him to a darkened room, and there he slept as a dumb animal sleeps. When he awoke, he was himself again; his mind was clear and cool. He looked the future squarely in the face, now, and clearly, as if a finger pointed, he saw the path that was marked for him. He must go his way––and she must go hers. Perhaps, after four years or more––but the future was God’s.”
The boy paused. The lights of the town were nearing, now; but he still looked out over the moon-kissed prairie.