what it was that troubled him, or
why his existence had dwindled to
this point of feverish unrest and stu
pefaction. He did not dream that his
body lay beneath a thousand'tons of
rock that had fallen upon the ex
press and buried it at the bottom of
the gulch, with all its human freight
It was a long time afterward when
he suddenly remembered his person
ality. Then where was he? In a
madhouse? On a sickbed? The next
thing he . recalled was Margaret's
name and now he was able to con
nect it with his troubles. Margaret
yes! The meaning of the word
flashed through his mind. He was
to have married her.
It was just then that he discovered
he was no logger in corporal form.
He was dead, and he could never
marry her. For a much longer period
years, in fact, he occupied himself
in putting things together, in the
way the dead do before they are
qualified to enter into paradise. This
might have been different, but it
was with a divine purpose that it had
happened. This act, which had beeoH
so costly to the body had been so
fruitful to the souL Gradually the
disharmonies of life adjusted them
selves, in spite of the grief of Mar
garet, which reached him as a dis
turbing influence, and at last the day
came when he understood and re
And he knew now, in the light of
his clearer insight, that he could
never have made Margaret happy.
Their temperaments were too ill-adjusted.
It had been mistake and de
lusion on both sides. Margaret had
idealized him, and he her. Marriage
would have been the ghastliest of all
mistakes. And the same providence
which, watching over h'im, had turn
ed the errors of his life into advan
tages, had intervened to prevent this
tragedy, in order that Margaret
might preserve her own idealism.
Yet their love had been too strong
not to produce results. There was
an imperishable part of their life.!
But what it Was the dead man could
At last, however, the meaning
dawned on him.
"It was material love on Margaret's
part," he thought "She is a woman
made for motherhood. If she had a
child . . ."
"But I could never have made her
The little boy was half dreaming,
while his mother moved in the next
room. He was striving with all his
new little brain to recollent the im
memorial past He had visions for
which nothing in his present exist
ence could possibly account He
seemed to have suffered agonizing
pain, to have had the breath crushed
out of him beneath an awful weight
And mingled with it there came a
woman's face, which, indeed, he had
often seen in his dreams. The boy
Then it seemed to him that he re
verted to a day when all these trou
bles were ended. A wonderful peace
enveloped him. A rest such as was
unbelievable after that awful tor
ment And at the portals he seemed
to hear a woman's cry:
"My love, come back to me!"
He hesitated; and then, oppressed
by that alien grief, he turned sadly
away. The call was like some noble
note upon an organ, a diapason that
filled all space.
He felt himself sinking into uncon
sciousness. That was all he remem
bered. Now he slept, and the phantoms of
his brain, already fading, troubled
him no more. With his flushed face
upon his arm he rested, while his pa
rents stood by his bedside.
John slipped his arm around Mar
"Do you feel as I do, that he has
brought us together?" he asked.
"Yes, dear," said Margaret
"And you have learned to love me
"With all my heart, Joha."
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