and them. His ideals waver in the soul's darkened air; the breath of
passion drives them to and fro.

With an anguished "Domine, exaudi!" he snatched himself from the window,
and leaving the room he crossed the hall, where the Tudor badges on the
ceiling, the arms of "Elizabetha Regina" above the great hearth were
already clear in the cold dawn, and made his way as noiselessly as
possible to the chapel.

Those strange figures on the wall had already shaken the darkness from
them. Wing rose on wing, halo on halo, each face turning in a mystic
passion to the altar and its steadfast light.

_Domine Deus, Agnus Dei, Filius Patris, qui tollis peccata mundi, suscipe
deprecationem nostram. Qui sedes ad dexteram Patris, miserere nobis_.

In prayer and passionate meditation he passed through much of the time
that had still to be endured. But meanwhile he knew well, in his sinful
and shrinking mind, that, for that night at least, he was only praying
because he could do nothing else--nothing that would give him Laura, or
deliver him from the fears that shook his inmost being.

* * * * *

A little before six Helbeck left the chapel. He must bathe and
dress--then to the farm for the pony cart. If she did not arrive by the
first train he would get a horse at Marsland and drive on to Braeside.
But first he must take care to leave a message for Mrs. Denton, whose
venomous face, as she stood listening the night before to his story of
Miss Fountain's mishaps, recurred to him disagreeably.