He straightened and looked about him and found that the room was quite dark.
So in the dimness Pierre fumbled, by force of habit, at his throat, and found the cross which he wore by a silver chain about his throat.
He held it in a great grip and closed his eyes and prayed.

When he opened his eyes again it was almost deep night in the room, and Pierre had passed from youth to manhood.

Through the gloom nothing stood out distinctly save the white face of the dead man, and from that Pierre looked quickly away.
One by one he numbered his obligations to Martin Ryder, and first and last he remembered the lie which had soothed his father.

The money for that corner plot where the grass grew first in the spring of the year--where was he to find it?
He fumbled in his pocket and found only a single coin.
He leaned back against the wall and strove to concentrate on the problem, but his thoughts wandered in spite of himself.

Looking backward, he remembered all things much more clearly than when he had actually seen them.