“Yes,” he resumed in great excitement, “I must be a man,--always a man. What! kill a woman? No, no, no! Not that. That would be terrible, brutal, cowardly. Yes, I must be a man. She needs me; I will help her. Is that door locked? She must never know--never know so long as she lives. Ah, that is beautiful, wonderful, savory,--a feast for gods and angels! Yes, I will do my duty. She needs me. She despises me. Very good; I will do my duty. She scorns my poor food--secretly, but I know! She is getting well. Thank God for that! She shall eat all she can. Me? No, no. I don’t want anything. No; I don’t want a thing. I have no appetite!” He burst into laughter, and the echo of it came back from the opposite wall of the canon. “Oh, my love, my love!” he cried, suddenly becoming sad, “how could you cast me off, when all had been so true and trusting between us? But I know it was better so. It was not right for me to stand in the way.” He paused, and his voice sank into an awed whisper as he said, “She’s dead, boys, she’s dead; and by God! they killed her.” He pushed rapidly on, muttering things that she could not hear, that she did not want to hear. Not a word of kindness for her had come from him in his delirium, and her heart was breaking. “When it is all over,” he said aloud, “I will go to my old friend, and he will nurse me back to health and strength, and I will begin the fight again. I will be a man--always a man. I will do my duty. And the she-wolf--no, no, no! She will not tear out my heart with her claws and fangs. No! There is no she-wolf! I say, there is no she-wolf. No! She is kind to me. I know it, I know it! She is gentle and thoughtful and unselfish. She is very, very beautiful. She won’t leave me, will she? She won’t leave me alone! But she is unmanning me! I must not let her do that! I must be a man and do my duty. No, you must not take off my shoes. I can do that. I have no pain--none whatever. Yes, I will be calm. Your voice is sweet; it is music; it fills me with peace and comfort; and your hand on my face--how soft and pleasant it is! I wish I could tell you; but no, I must do my duty; I must be a man! I will not listen to your voice. I will not let you touch me. That would keep me from my duty.” These words raised her from despair to bliss. And so he had fought his inclinations,--he needed her, he wanted her! Still he kept on. She strained every hearing faculty for his slightest word. For what he had already said, she could bear his forgetting her presence. Still they pushed on, he muttering and laughing; but for all his madness, he was wise and cautious amid the dangers and hardships of the road. No longer did he advise her, guide her, assist her, and show her the innumerable unobtrusive attentions to which she had become accustomed. At last he suddenly stopped in a stretch of good road and looked about, bewildered.