The moonlight poured dazzlingly upon the white marble basin, and on the figure of a nymph who bent above it, delicately poised like a butterfly about to take wing. He wondered if she would flee at his approach, but she did not. She stood there waiting for him, a thing of infinite daintiness, the one object untouched in that ravaged garden. Perhaps after all it was she and not the fountain that drew him so irresistibly. He had a great longing to hear her speak, but he was afraid to address her lest he should scare her away. She was so slight, so spiritual, so exquisite in her fairy grace. She made him think of Jeanie--little Jeanie who had prayed for his happiness and had not lived to see her prayer fulfilled. He drew near with a certain stealthiness, fearing to startle her. He would have risen to his feet, but his strength was ebbing fast. He knew he could not. And then--just ere he reached the marble basin, the goal of that long, bitter journey--he saw her turn a little towards him; he heard her speak. "Dear Sir Galahad!" "Jeanie!" he gasped. She seemed to sway above the gleaming water. Even then--even then--he was not sure of her--till he saw her face of childish purity and the happy smile of greeting in her eyes! "How very tired you must be!" she said. "I am, Jeanie! I am!" he groaned in answer. "These chains--these iron bars--I shall never get free!" He saw her white arms reach out to him. He thought her fingers touched his brow. And he knew quite suddenly that the journey was over, and he could lie down and rest. Her voice came to him very softly, with a hushing tenderness through the miniature rush and gurgle of the water. As usual she sought to comfort him, but he heard a thrill of triumph as well as sympathy in her words. "He hath broken the gates of brass," she said. "And smitten the bars of iron in sunder." His fingers closed upon the edge of the pool. He felt the water splash his face as he sank down; and though he was too spent to drink he thanked God for bringing him thither. Later it seemed to him that a Divine Presence came through the garden, that Someone stooped and touched him, and lo, his chains were broken and his burden gone! And he roused himself to ask for pardon; which was granted to him ere that Presence passed away. He never knew exactly what happened after that night in the garden of the ruined château. There were a great many happenings, but none of them seemed to concern him very vitally.