Prue was before him with the tender blue of her eyes and the fleecy gold of her hair and her joy of a child--her little figure shrugging and nestling in his arms in happy faith--calling as she had called to him that morning--"_Joel--Joel--Joel_!" He shivered in this flood of cold, relentless light, yet unflinchingly did he keep his face turned full upon the truth it revealed.
And this was now more than the image of the sweetheart he had sworn to cherish--it was also the image of himself vowed to his great mission.

He knew that upon neither of these could he suffer a blemish to come if he would not be forever in agony.

With appalling clearness the thing was lined out before him.
The woman at his side stirred and his eyes were again upon her.

At once she saw the truth in them.

Her parted lips came together in a straight line, shutting the red fulness determinedly in.