This combination of circumstances was like a platform whereon conflicting truths had taken their stand, ready for the encounter, and where the three loftiest principles of mankind--humanity, family, and country--stood face to face. Each of these voices spoke in turn, and each one spoke the truth. How was a man to choose? Each one by turns seemed to have discovered the point of union between justice and wisdom, and said, "Act thus." Must he obey this voice? Yes. No. Reason suggested one thing, sentiment another; and their counsels were diametrically opposed. Logic is nothing more than reason; sentiment is often the voice of the conscience: the one comes from man, the other from above. Hence the perceptions of sentiment are less clear, but wield a stronger influence. But what a power dwells in stern reason! Gauvain hesitated. Torturing perplexities! Two abysses opened before Gauvain,--to destroy the Marquis, or to save him? Into one or the other he must needs plunge. Towards which of these two did duty call him? II THE COMMANDER'S HOOD. The question had indeed resolved itself in a matter of duty. Duty arose stem-visaged and immutable before the spirit of Cimourdain, and terrible before that of Gauvain. Simple to the one; complex, many-sided, devious, to the other. The hour of midnight sounded; then one o'clock. Without realizing where he was going, Gauvain had unconsciously approached the entrance of the breach. The light of the expiring fire cast now but a dim reflection. The plateau on the other side of the tower caught the light and became visible for an instant only, to vanish as the clouds of smoke obscured the flames. This light, with its unexpected flashes and sudden darkening shadows, exaggerated the surrounding objects and gave to the sentinels of the camp the effect of phantoms. Gauvain, lost in thought, unconsciously watched the alternations of smoke and flame. There seemed to him a strange analogy between these changes of light and shade and the varied phases of truth in his own mind.