At that moment for the first time a dreadful thought had crossed his
mind. Suddenly a memory of that afternoon when he had bade Wonder kiss
Silencieux flashed upon him; and once more he heard himself saying:
"Silencieux, I bring you my little child."

But he had never meant it so. It had all been a mad fancy. What was
Silencieux herself but a wilful, selfish dream? He saw it all now. How
could a lifeless image have power over the life of his child?

And yet again, was Silencieux a lifeless image? And still again, if she
were an image, was it not always to an image that humanity from the
beginning had been sacrificed? Yes; perhaps if Silencieux were only an
image there was all the more reason to fear her.

When he returned he would go to Silencieux, go on his knees and beg for
the life of his child. Silencieux had been cruel, but she could hardly
be so cruel as that.

He drove back across the moor by the doctor's side.

"I have always thought you unwise to live in that valley," said the
doctor. "It's pretty, but like most pretty places, it's unhealthy.
Nature can seldom be good and beautiful at the same time." The doctor
was somewhat of a philosopher.

"Your little girl needs the hills. In fact you all do. Your wife isn't
half the woman she was since you took her into the valley. You don't
look any better for it, either. No, sir, believe me, beauty's all very
well, but it's not good to live with--And, by the way, have you had your