ished, leaving the countryside sparkling and serene
under a stainless evening sky.

The water dripped down his back, swashed in his
shoes; he was, in his lowered vitality, supremely uncomfortable.
The way was slippery with mud; wet
leaves bathed his face in sudden, chill showers, clung
to his hands. He fell.

When he arrived at the rim of Greenstream night
had hidden that familiar, welcome vista. The
lights of the houses shone pale yellow below. A
new reluctance to enter this place of home possessed
him, a shame born of his denuded pockets,
his bedraggled exterior. He descended, but turned
to the left, finding a rude road which skirted the
base of the eastern range. He was following no
definite plan, moving slowly, without objective; but
a window glimmering in a square of orange light
against the night brought him to a halt. It marked,
he knew, the dwelling of the Jesuit priest, Merlier.
In a sudden impulse he advanced over a short path,
and fumbling, found the door, where he knocked.
A chair scraped within and the door swung open.
The form of the priest was dark against the lighted
interior which absorbed them.

[[104]]

p103 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p104w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p105

v?