In a single instant the accumulated anger and anguish of the past four days melted and ran away from the youth’s heart. His load of unhappiness was lifted. Once more he walked on air. It seemed to him that he radiated life. But the few hours that still separated them brought him much that was new in the way of thought. Since she had forgiven him, he perceived that his banishment had been, in large measure, brought on by himself. He had not sufficiently considered her, her woman’s delicacy and hesitation. He had acted as his youth and his manhood prompted him. But he resolved that there should be no such mistake again. The thought of her now brought a deep tenderness, which, indeed, might have surprised Ahalya could she have read it. Nor were the six hours of the evening long or heavy. He had a foundation on which to build his castle of dreams; and his heart was full of thankfulness and relief. It was five minutes after midnight when he entered the little room where Churi stood. “All is well?” asked Fidá, his mouth dry. “All is well. No one is stirring. Enter.” Fidá’s bright eyes grew brighter still; and he ran boyishly through the doorway into the little passage where, this time, Neila awaited him. He followed her, in silence, down the short hall, through the memorable room at the end of it, which was empty to-night, and across the next one, that he had never seen, to a door at which Neila knocked. A moment’s suspense, and then a muffled voice said, “Open!” The maid pushed it, and motioned to Fidá, who passed swiftly within. The door closed behind him. He was gazing upon the figure of Ahalya, who stood a few feet away, looking at him, doubtfully, longingly, half sadly. His heart throbbed with many emotions. He took a hesitating step or two toward her, pleading with his eyes. Then, all at once, there was a quick, low cry, and Ahalya had flung herself into his arms.