It had been arranged that Muriel should leave for Stamford in two or three days, when one morning, she having gone out with the nurse, and I remaining alone in my room, Jack Yelverton was admitted. In an instant I saw from his countenance that something unusual had occurred. His pale, unshaven face was haggard and worn, his clerical collar was soiled, his coat unbrushed, his hair unkempt, and as he seated himself and put out his hand I felt it quiver in my grasp. "Why, what's the matter, old chap?" I inquired in surprise. "What's happened?" "I'm upset, Clifton," he answered hoarsely. "What's upset you? This isn't like your usual self," I said. "No," he responded, rising and pacing the room with his hand to his white brow, "it isn't like me." Then, turning quickly to me, he added with gravity which startled me, "Clifton, I think I'm mad!" "Mad! Nonsense! my dear fellow!" I protested, placing my hand upon his shoulder. "Tell me what all this is about." "I've failed!" he cried in a voice of utter despair. "I've striven, and striven in my work, but all to no purpose. I've sown the wind, and the Devil has placed a bar between myself and the Master." "How?" I asked, failing to grasp his meaning. "I have made a discovery," he answered in a dry, harsh tone. "A discovery!" I echoed. "Yes, one so appalling, so terrible, so absolutely horrible, that I am crushed, hopeless, paralysed." "What is it?" I demanded quickly, excited by his strange wildness of manner. "No," he answered. "It is useless to explain. You could never believe that what I told you was the truth." "I know that you would not willingly tell a lie to your oldest friend, Jack," I answered, with grave earnestness. "But you could never fully realise the truth," he declared. "A sorrow has fallen upon me greater and more terrible than ever man has encountered; for at the instant of my recovery I knew that I was shut out from the grace of God, that all my work had been a mere mockery of the Master." "Why do you speak like this?" I argued, knowing him to be a devout man, and having seen with my own eyes how self-denying he was, and how untiring he had worked among the poor. "I speak the truth, Clifton," he said, a strange look in his eyes. "I shall never enter my church again." "Never enter your church!" I cried. "Are you really mad?" "The wiles of Satan have encompassed me," he responded hoarsely, in the tone of a man utterly broken. "How? Explain!" I said. "A woman's eyes fascinated me. I fell beneath her spell, only to find that her heart was the blackest in all the world." "Well?" "My love for her is an absorbing one. She is my idol, and I have cast aside my God for her." "Why do you talk like this?" I asked reproachfully. "Has it not been proved to you already that you can marry and yet live a godly life?" "Yes, yes! I know," he responded with impatience. "But to love Aline Cloud is to abandon the Master."