He had reached a sudden determination while he talked with Japhra; he found his mind carried forward to the scenes of its prosecution, and he was made to breathe deeply and to walk fast as he visioned them. A conflict possessed him and tore at him as he went. Before he got to bed that night he would have from Aunt Maggie what she purposed for his future--he would have it in definite words--he would not be put off by vague generalisations--he would accept nothing in the nature of "next year will be time enough to decide"--nay, nor "next month," nor "next week"--he would have it definitely, clearly, unmistakably now. That was his determination; thence arose the conflict. He assured himself as he walked that let him but know Aunt Maggie's intentions, and however cruel, however impossible, however unendurable they might be, he would follow wise Japhra's advice--would meet in the ring as if it were a physical antagonist the passionate impulse to reward all kind Aunt Maggie's love by violent refusal to obey her--would meet and would defeat it there. He threw up his head as he so thought and had his fists clenched and his jaw set. The action made him conscious of old friend wind. At this the pitch of his heat, "Ha! Ha! Ha!" shouted old friend wind in his ears. "Accept idleness if Aunt Maggie so desires, will you?--and the laughter and contempt, eh? Ha! Ha! Ha!" He put down his head again. The wind was getting up; it took some buffeting. He began to reason now that he should have argued with Japhra when Japhra laid down the law of self-discipline and moral conduct. "You can't make one rule to cover everything!" he said aloud, driving along against the wind. "A man must do something with his life!" he cried. He suddenly realised that he was dallying; he suddenly knew that he was weakening. He was persuading himself that the hour of the fight would fall when he questioned Aunt Maggie; he suddenly realised that the battle was already begun. II