All afternoon and evening, and late into the night she sat white and stricken, waiting for his step, waiting for news of him. In the darkness a horse galloped up. An officer of the Philistines sought her. "Have you news of Samson?" "Yes, Delilah. He is in Gaza, in the prison-house." "In the prison-house! What has he done?" "He has done nothing, Delilah, he is--he is mad and blind, and would come in. We tried to send him home to you, but he wouldn't come. And he would n't go to the Hebrews. We were afraid of something happening to him, so we took him in.... What shall we do, Delilah?" "Would you--would you let him stay?" "If you wish it, Delilah." "He will be least unhappy there." She knew somehow, in her heart, that never again would she lie in his arms, never again be wife to the husband in him. She would take him back, take him back gladly. Though no longer had she great passion for him--that had died when he struck and insulted her before her servants. She had a great pity and affection for the poor driven man. She was the only one who understood him. "Ah, poor man! poor man!" she cried. And in some ways he was only a child. In a few days she went down to the prison house. The officials brought her to where he was grinding corn in the yard. "We put him at it, Delilah, to keep his mind off his trouble." She nodded. "Samson," she called. He moved his head slightly. "Don't you know me, Samson?" "I know you. You are the harlot Delilah, who enticed me, and gave me into the hands of the Lords of the Philistines. Delilah, I know you well." "Samson, will you come home to my house? Let me make you comfortable there." "You would put out my tongue, Delilah, and burn off my hands, as you put out my eyes. I know you, Delilah!" "Then will you go to the Hebrews?" "No!" he replied sullenly. A sudden rush of tears to her eyes made her go out. She could no longer bear to look upon him. He had been so strong once, so courageous. He had looked in the sun's eye. And now, blind and broken--oh, poor dear! ... She stumbled as she went. At the door of the prison house the governor shuffled uncomfortably: "We shall be very good to him, Delilah, as kind as we know how," he uttered. There was a great lump in her throat, so she could say nothing. But he got his thanks from her twisted smile, her wet eyes.... VII