At last the rain was ceasing; it still fell steadily, but more, now, like a gentle shower, while the wind had died down completely. It was cold, though, and the damp, chill atmosphere hung over the cabin like a heavy wet cloth. So unutterably dreary were the weather and the surroundings that Costantino, recalling the periods of his most acute misery, could never remember being so utterly and hopelessly wretched as now. Not even on the day of the sentence, not even on the day when they had told him of the divorce, nor on that other day of his return: for on every one of those occasions, desperate as the outlook had been, there always remained the hope of better things in the life to come. Then his conscience had been pure; but now, should he go on living, he believed that he would surely forfeit all hope in the life to come. At times, goaded by this horror, he would cry aloud, imploring death to come and save him, as a terrified child cries for its mother. Thus the hours wore on; he had dropped into a feverish sleep, but awoke suddenly, trembling with terror at he could not tell what. The rain was over at last, but in the profound stillness that enwrapped him, Costantino fancied that he still heard it beating on the roof, and the drip, drip from the leak over the fireplace; only now the sounds seemed to come from far, far away, from a world that was already remote. He thought that he was already dead, or lingering on the extremest confines of life, in a place of shadows, of silence, of mystery. What would he find there--just beyond? The light of eternity, or--the darkness of eternity? He was afraid to open his eyes; he tried to cry out, but could not utter a sound. Then--a knock came on the door. The sound dragged him back from that vague tide on which he was floating; he opened his eyes without moving, conscious both of relief and regret at finding himself still alive. The knocking was repeated louder than before. Who could it be? Not Uncle Isidoro; he would have called out. Costantino neither stirred nor spoke. Possibly he had not the strength to get up, but in any case he had no wish to. Why must they come to disturb him? dragging him back from those mysterious shores on which he had almost set foot.