"
"Are we ever safe against the demons of the night?" she asked solemnly.
"And has not evil great power always?"
"Always," he assented in a voice that trembled to a sigh, like the
uncertain wind that comes hesitating at dusk in the woods. "Always," he
repeated.
As he spoke Mark fell upon his knees among the holy flowers, for there
had come upon him temptation; and the sombre trees standing round
watched him like fiends with folded wings.
"Go to the chapel," he cried in an agony.
"Mark, what is the matter?"
"Go to the chapel. For God's sake, Esther, don't wait."
In another moment he felt that he should tear the white veil from her
forehead and set loose her auburn hair.
"Mark, are you ill?"
"Oh, do what I ask," he begged. "Once I prayed for you here. Pray for me
now."
At that moment she understood, and putting her hands to her eyes she
stumbled blindly toward the ruined church of the two Maries, heavily
too, because she was encumbered by her holy garb. When she was gone and
the last rustle of her footsteps had died away upon the mid-summer
silence, Mark buried his body in the golden flowers.
"How can I ever look any of them in the face again?" he cried aloud.
"Small wonder that yesterday I was so futile.
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