Yes, something would have to be sacrificed. Somehow this obstacle must be cleared out of Dicky's path. Juliet could not come to Dicky while he was there. He did not ask himself why this should be, but accepted it as fact. He then was the main obstacle to Dicky's happiness, to the fulfilment of his great desire. Then he must go. But whither? And leave Dicky--and leave Dicky! Again for a spell the anguish woke within him, but it did not possess him so overwhelmingly as before. He had begun to seek for a way out, and though it was hard to find, the very act of seeking brought him comfort. His own misery no longer occupied the forefront of his poor groping brain. He sat for a long, long time up there on the cliff while the shadows lengthened and the day slowly died, turning the matter over and over while the flame of sacrifice gradually kindled in the darkness of his soul. It was probably the growth of many hours of not too coherent meditation--the solution of that problem; but it came upon him very suddenly at the last, almost like the swift wheeling of a flashlight over the calm night sea. He had heard the church clock strike in the distance, and was turning to leave when that first vision of Juliet swooped back upon him--Juliet in her light linen dress springing up the path towards him. He saw her as she had stood there, leaving the path behind her, poised like a young goddess against the dazzling blue of the spring sky. Her face had been stern at first, but all the sternness had gone into an amazing kindness of compassion when her look had lighted upon him. She had not shrunk from him as shrank so many. And then--and then--he remembered the sudden fear, the sharp anxiety, that had succeeded that first look of pity. He had been standing on the brink of the cliff as he had stood many a time before--as he stood now. That cliff had been the tragedy of his ruined life. And yet he loved it, had never known any fear of it. But she had been afraid for his sake. He had seen the fear leap into her eyes. And the memory of it came to him now as a revelation. He had found the way of escape at last! The sea was crooning behind him over the half-buried rocks. He stood again on the brink with his poor worn face turned to the sky. He had come to the end of his reasoning. The tired brain had ceased to grapple with the cruel problem that had so tortured it. He knew now what he would do to help Dicky. And somehow the doing did not seem hard to him, somehow he did not feel afraid. One step back and the cliff fell away behind him. Yet for a space he went neither forward nor back. It was as though he waited for a word of command, some signal for release. The first star was gleaming very far away like a lamp lighted in a distant city. His eyes found it and dwelt upon it with a wistful wonder. He had always loved the stars.