In the silence that followed she lifted her exquisite face. Her lips were parted, and in her gaze was a light that came as through dissolving mist. And then into their very souls crept the voice of the rapids. Clark caught it, and perceived that the call was not for him alone but for thousands yet unborn, and there began to creep over him the ineffable unction of labor. He realized how large was the world, and how much work yet remained to be done. His spirit was not solitary, but linked forever with eternal realities, and through the cloud that obscured the present he could see his star of destiny shining undimmed. And Elsie! Elsie sat, her whole being shaken with overwhelming emotion. Never had she so longed to be everything to this man as now when, with prophetic power, his vibrant voice told her that he must journey on alone. In his accents she recognized the note of fate, and the ground shifted under her feet. She saw her dream dissolving. She perceived that against his lofty spirit she herself must oppose nothing small and selfish, however poignant the moment. Summoning all her fortitude, she stretched out her hand. He stood for a moment, and she felt the pressure of his grasp. It was warm and confident. When she looked up she was alone. It was hours afterwards that Ardswell and Weatherby lounged at their windows, overhanging the terrace. They were in dressing gowns and smoking contemplative pipes. Down below was seated a motionless gray clad figure, clearly outlined in the moonlight. Ardswell saw him. "Poor devil!" he said under his breath. XXV.--THE UNCONQUERABLE SPIRIT Two years later, Belding and Elsie were returning from Chicago, where the former had been purchasing machinery for the new company, of which he was chief engineer. Time had done well for them and for St. Marys. The six months' physical inactivity of the works were spent wisely, if ruthlessly, in weeding out unfertile growths and concentrating resources on those which were sound and promising. There was a sharp distinction between this deliberate policy and the restless activity that preceded it. St. Marys, too, had caught its breath and taken on permanency. There were no more surprises. The works became a factory, instead of a Pandora's box, full of the unexpected. Property was stable, if lower than the high water mark, while Filmer and the rest settled down to steady business, somewhat forgetful of the man to whom were due the first tendrils of the tree of progress. But Belding, growing constantly in mental stature, could never forget. His own position--his development--his authority, had come of the abiding faith bestowed on him nine years ago by one whom he had then seen but for ten minutes. And as often as he saw the works the realization came over him. How many others, he wondered, felt as he did?