What did it mean? Lolly lay dead in the ooze of the Muscadine and Port Argent was come to be a horror. He seemed so plainly to have failed, so drearily was Lolly dead, and all the fire in his own soul dead too, gone out in cinders, and his theory of life cracked like a hollow nutshell. He would go back to the mines, or to the slums and shops, and live again with the sweating hordes, among whom the grim secret of life lay, if anywhere; and when next he preached, he would preach the bitterest fact loudest. No, rather, if life is hopeless let us dig in the earth and say nothing. But Camilla! What of Camilla? And what did she mean? Her story too! He began to speak slowly, but presently grew rapid and eager. “How can I explain? I never knew my fellow men, nor cared for them. They were no brothers of mine. I had but one. I never loved another human being, not these twenty years, but I had the kin instinct like hunger. Allen and I were rooted together. I thought I was a prophet, who was no more than a savage. Men are brothers by blood or interest, but for the rest they fight the old war that began before the earth had a decent crust to cover its chaos. Brotherhood of wildcats!” “Oh, no! no!” she cried. “For your sake, no, Camilla! Oh, through you I could hope again! You will save me, I will cut the past out and bury it, I will begin again. I will count this place with the dead and leave it forever. I need you. Come with me, my wife and hope and guide. Camilla, help me!” “No, no!” His sharp, strained voice frightened her. His eyes glittered and his face was white below his black hair. His intensity frightened her. The future he pointed to threatened her like an overhanging cloud, the struggle in her own heart frightened her. “You said the story was yours. Camilla, tell me so again! We'll blot it out. I will forget! I need you! Come away from this ghastly city!” Now she saw her father in his library, his white head bent. He was waiting and listening for her footsteps; and Dick seemed to be standing over him, listening for her to come; and Aunt Eunice, near by, was listening. “I can't!” she cried. “I can't!” “You must! Camilla! We will go away. It would be possible with you. I'll find a truth yet that doesn't lead to hell. I'll be a leader yet. Camilla, look at me!” She lifted her face and turned slowly toward him, and a voice spoke out in the distant, dark doorway, saying, “Milly!”--and then hesitated, and Hennion came out. “I heard you crying,” he said quietly. “I didn't seem to be able to stand that.” “Dick! Take care of me!” she cried, and ran to him, and put her face against his arm. The two men looked at each other for a moment. Aidee said, “I'm answered.” “I think you gave me a close call,” said Hennion, and drew Camilla past him into the passage, and followed her a few steps. Then he turned back, thinking: