And then, when I had written it, I went out into the dark night; I walked and walked, not knowing where, still tingling with excitement. And, suddenly, I stood spellbound--the cathedral! There it was--there it was! I saw it, alive and real before me--all of it--all that I had seen and known! I cried out for joy, I stretched out my arms to it--the great, dark surging presence; and all my soul went with it, singing, singing--up into the misty night! * * * * * June 1st. I sat to-night by the river again. It was moonlight, and the water lay shimmering. A little yacht, gleaming with lights, sped by; it was very close, and I saw a group of people on it, I heard them laughing; and one of them--a woman--was singing. O God, what a voice! So rich, so exquisite! It soared upward and died again, quivering like the reflection of the stars on the water. It went in--in to the very depths of my soul; it loosed all the woe of my spirit, it made the tears gush into my eyes. And then it died away, away in the distance; and I sat with my hands clasped. Sail on--sail on--oh heavenly voice! Far-off vision of brightness and beauty! Your lot is not my lot. * * * * * --There is something within me that weeps yet, at the echo of that music. Oh, what would I not give for music! How much of my bitterness, how many of my sorrows have melted into tears at one strain! And I can not have it! Oh, you who do have it, do you know what you have? Oh beautiful voice, do you hear yourself? All things else I can make for myself--friendship and love--nature and books and prayer; all things but music! * * * * * Can you not hear that voice dying--dying--“over the rolling waters”? * * * * * June 2d. I shall come out of this a man--a man! I shall know how to live all my days! I shall have memories that will always haunt me, memories that I can build the years by! * * * * * June 3d. From the time that I began The Captive it has been almost two months; it is just six weeks from the day I wrote that I had ten or twelve weeks in which to finish. I have done well financially--I have twenty-one dollars left, and I have paid for my typewriting. It is not a fortune. But enough is as good as a fortune. And I am coming on! I have been counting the scenes--I am really within sight of the end. --That day when I crouched by the bed I saw all of the end. I have seen the whole thing. It will leave me a wreck, but I can do it. And it will take me about three weeks. Think of my being able to say that!--Five or six hundred lines at least I shall have to do, and still I dare to say that. But I am full of this thing, I mount with it all the time. I am finding my wings. Nothing can stop me now; I feel that I shall hold myself to it. I become more grim every day. * * * * *