“I have prayed for fortitude. I have found courage to think of living on here without him,” she replied. “I have seen myself an old woman of Zanah who goes her way dreaming still of the love of her youth.” “Thou knowest that I would watch o’er thee,” said the school-master. “Yea; but thy brotherly compassion hath not the sustaining power of love.” “Thou knowest not what sustaining power brotherly compassion may reveal.” Gerson Brandt’s voice betrayed suppressed emotion, and, looking up, Walda saw that his face had become suddenly old and drawn. “I have pained thee by my seeming ingratitude for all thy kindnesses,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. The school-master’s face flushed, for her touch made his heart throb. The tempter’s voice spoke insistently. “Shall I send Stephen Everett away?” Walda asked, after a brief pause. “Direct me aright. Help me to do what my father would have me do.” Gerson Brandt did not answer. “The people of Zanah accused me of murdering my father,” Walda said, after a long silence. “All the night after the _Untersuchung_ I was filled with terror, but now I know that I could not have spared him the sorrow. I was, indeed, but the instrument of fate. I had to tell the truth as it was made clear to me. Oh, tell me that thou dost not deem me guilty of my father’s death.” She was weeping again, and Gerson Brandt was stirred to compassion. “Cease thy lamentation,” he said, gently. “I have thought much about thee ever since thou didst make thy confession of love. I have come to know that thou must follow the dictates of thy heart. It is right that thou shouldst go out into the world as Stephen Everett’s wife. There thou wilt find pain and suffering, but all will be glorified by thy love.” The tempter was vanquished. The school-master had listened to him for the last time. “Nay, speak to me as my father would speak.” “As thy father’s friend, and as one who holds thee in the deep recesses of his heart, I tell thee to go forth from Zanah with the man thou lovest.” “And do I owe no duty to the colony? Is it not right that I should strive to make amends for my unfaithfulness to the trust reposed in me? Tell me the whole truth. Spare me not, for I would do the Lord’s will.” “The colony hath forfeited all claim upon thee, for the men and women did shamelessly flout thee. Thy father hath recompensed the people of Zanah a hundredfold for whatever may have been done for thee.” Walda gazed at the face of her dead father. Its calmness gave her assurance of his forgiveness. Then the realization of her loss impressed itself on her. She wept again. Stroking his stiffened hands, she prayed that he might know she had not meant to disregard his teachings or to bring him to dishonor.