It came as a burst of light taken up and radiated by clouds of fume and gas with which the air was instantly impregnated. Around Noakes was a white-hot brilliance which he could not face, and could not escape. His eyes pained horribly. He heard a crescendo roaring as of a billow breaking on the shore; as suddenly as it had come, the light went out. He was in darkness. He trained his gaze into the void and succeeded only in augmenting the pain back of his eyes. The darkness was impenetrable. He began to realize what had happened. With a low moan he crumpled and sank to the floor. Late in the afternoon of the next day, behind a livery horse, two men were covering the roadway between town and the Hallam place. To one the way seemed long. He leaned back wearily and pulled a soft hat down over his bandaged eyes. 'Where are we?' he asked. 'At the gate,' the driver replied. Noakes stiffened. The gate closed behind them, and the wheels rumbled on the driveway. 'Is--is any one in front?' 'Miss Hallam is on the porch, sir.' The vehicle came to a stop. 'Afternoon, Miss Beck,' Noakes called. He tried to make it sound pleasant and commonplace, and knew that he failed. Grasping the side of the vehicle, he descended clumsily. Becky took his hand and pressed it warmly. She turned and took a step toward the house, still holding his hand. He withdrew it. 'I--don't, please; I know the way.' With the shuffling tread of the blind he ascended the walk, stopping uncertainly at the foot of the steps. He heard Becky, at his side, draw a quick breath, as if about to speak. He half-turned to her, and hearing nothing more, mounted the steps heavily. 'Do you know,' he said, as he paused at the top, 'I've never counted these steps before. I didn't know there were so many. Let's sit inside, if you don't mind.' He went a little way, and Becky put her hand on his arm. 'It's this way, Noakes,' she said gently, as she guided him into the room in which they were the night before. 'Thank you. It's a bit hard to be led,' Noakes said huskily. They sat on a deep couch. 'Noakes, was it wise to come? I am glad you are here, but won't it hurt you, retard your recovery?' Becky asked anxiously. 'I had to come.' 'Mr. Max told me--both he and the doctor telephoned me early this morning--that in spite of all they said to you, you insisted on coming.' 'I am fit, sound except for my eyes; that's the shame of it,' he said bitterly. 'They couldn't persuade me that I should rest now, rest to recover from a shock that will last a lifetime.' 'I thought--I was afraid you might add fresh danger by coming out so soon.' 'I tell you I had to come!' he said with level forcefulness. 'As for my eyes, the harm is done.' 'Is it irremediable?' 'I am blind.' 'But soon--some day, surely--' 'No. The doctor gives me banalities for answers. I suppose he thinks I would go to pieces if he told me the truth.'