My soul flew homing to its proper prison.

I was no longer any unit at unequal strife with the elements; instincts common to my kind were no longer my only stimulus.

I was my poor self again; it was my own little life, and no other, that I wanted to go on living; and yet I felt vaguely there was some special thing I wished to live for, something that had not been very long in my ken; something that had perhaps nerved and strengthened me all these hours.

What, then, could it be?
I could not think.
For moments or for minutes I wondered stupidly, dazed as I was.

Then I remembered--and the tears gushed to my eyes.