But there were other sounds in that wind； too。 Evil； murderous
thoughts； perhaps； which had never taken body in deeds； but which；
caught up in the air； now hurled themselves in impotent fury
through the world。 How I wished the wind would stop。 It seemed
full of horrible fancies； and it kept knocking them into my head；
and it wouldn't leave off。 Fancies； or memorieswhich？and my
mind reverted with a flash to the fearful thoughts which had
haunted it the day before in Dame Alice's tower。 It was dark now。
Those ghastly intangible shapes must have taken full form and
color； peopling the old ruin with their ageless hideousness。 And
the storm had found them there and borne them along with it as it
blew through the creviced walls。 That was why the wind's sound
struck so strangely on my brain。 Ah！ I could hear them now； those
still living memories of dead horror。 Through the window crannies
they came shrieking and wailing。 They filled the chimney with
spirit sobs； and now they were pressing on； crowding through the
room；eager； eager to reach their prey。 Nearer they came；nearer
still！ They were round my bed now！ Through my closed eyelids I
could almost see their dreadful shapes； in all my quivering flesh I
felt their terrors as they bent over me；lower； lower。 。 。 。
With a start I aroused myself and sat up。 Was I asleep or awake？
I was trembling all over still； and it required the greatest effort
of courage I had ever made to enable me to spring from my bed and
strike a light。 What a state my nerves or my digestion must be in！
From my childhood the wind had always affected me strangely； and I
blamed myself now for allowing my imagination to run away with me
at the first。 I found a novel which I had brought up to my room
with me； one of the modern； Chinese…American school； where human
nature is analyzed with the patient； industrious indifference of
the true Celestial。 I took the book to bed with me； and soon under
its soothing influences fell asleep。 I dreamt a good deal；
nightmares； the definite recollection of which； as is so often the
case； vanished from my mind as soon as I awoke； leaving only a
vague impression of horror。 They had been connected with the wind；
of that alone I was conscious； and I went down to breakfast；
maliciously hoping that others' rest had been as much disturbed as
my own。
To my surprise； however； I found that I had again been the only
sufferer。 Indeed； so impressed were most of the party with the
quiet in which their night had been passed； that they boldly
declared my storm to have been the creature of my dreams。 There is
nothing more annoying when you feel yourself aggrieved by fate than
to be told that your troubles have originated in your own fancy； so
I dropped the subject。 Though the discussion spread for a few
minutes round the whole table； Alan took no part in it。 Neither
did George； except for what I thought a rather unnecessarily rough
expression of his disbelief in the cause of my night's disturbance。
As we rose from breakfast I saw Alan glance towards his brother；
and make a movement； evidently with the purpose of speaking to him。
Whether or not George was aware of the look or action； I cannot
say； but at the same moment he made rapidly across the room to
where one of his principal guests was standing； and at once engaged
him in conversation。 So earnestly and so volubly was he borne on；
that they were still talking together when we ladies appeared again
some minutes later； prepared for our walk to church。 That was not
the only occasion during the day on which I witnessed as I thought
the same by…play going on。 Again and again Alan appeared to be
making efforts to engage George in private conversation； and again
and again the latter successfully eluded him。
The church was about a mile away from the house； and as Lucy did
not like having the carriages out on a Sunday； one service a week
as a rule contented the household。 In the afternoon we took the
usual Sunday walk。 On returning from it； I had just taken off my
outdoor things； and was issuing from my bedroom； when I found
myself face to face with Alan。 He was coming out of George's
study； and had succeeded apparently in obtaining that interview for
which he had been all day seeking。 One glance at his face told me
what its nature had been。 We paused opposite each other for a
moment； and he looked at me earnestly。
〃Are you going to church？〃 he inquired at last； abruptly。
〃No；〃 I answered； with some surprise。 〃I did not know that any one
was going this evening。〃
〃Will you come with me？〃
〃Yes； certainly； if you don't mind waiting a moment for me to put
my things on。〃
〃There's plenty of time；〃 he answered； 〃meet me in the hall。〃
A few minutes later we started。
It was a calm； cloudless night； and although the moon was not yet
half…full； and already past her meridian； she filled the clear air
with gentle light。 Not a word broke our silence。 Alan walked
hurriedly； looking straight before him； his head upright； his lips
twitching nervously； while every now and then a half…uttered moan
escaped unconsciously from between them。 At last I could bear it
no longer； and burst forth with the first remark which occurred to
me。 We were passing a big； black； queer…shaped stone standing in
rather a lonely uncultivated spot at one end of the garden。 It was
an old acquaintance of my childhood； but my thoughts had been
turned towards it now from the fact that I could see it from my
bedroom window； and had been struck afresh by its uncouth；
incongruous appearance。
〃Isn't there some story connected with that stone？〃 I asked。 〃I
remember that we always called it the Dead Stone as children。〃
Alan cast a quick； sidelong glance in that direction； and his brows
contracted in an irritable frown。 〃I don't know；〃 he answered
shortly； 〃they say that there is a woman buried beneath it； I
believe。〃
〃A woman buried there！〃 I exclaimed in surprise； 〃but who？〃
〃How should I know？ They know nothing whatever about it。 The
place is full of stupid traditions of that kind。〃 Then； looking
suspiciously round at me； 〃Why do you ask？〃
〃I don't know； it was just something to say；〃 I answered
plaintively。 His strange mood so worked upon my nerves； that it
was all that I could do to restrain my tears。 I think that my tone
struck his conscience； for he made a few feverish attempts at
conversation after that。 But they were so entirely abortive that
he soon abandoned the effort； and we finished our walk to church as
speechlessly as we had begun it。
The service was bright； and the sermon perhaps a little
commonplace； but sensible as it seemed to me in matter； and
adequate in style。 The peaceful evening hymn which followed； the
short solemn pause of silent prayer at the end； soothed and
refreshed my spirit。 A hasty glance at my companion's face as he
stood waiting for me in the porch； with the full light from the
church streaming round him； assured me that the same influence had
touched him too。 Haggard and sad he still looked； it is true； but
his features were composed； and the expression of actual pain had
left his eyes。
Silent as we had come we started homeward through the waning
moonlight； but this silence was of a very different nature to the
other； and after a minute or two I did not hesitate to break it。
〃It was a good sermon？〃 I observed； interrogatively。
〃Yes；〃 he assented； 〃I suppose you would call it so； but I confess
that I should have found the text more impressive without its
exposition。〃
〃Poor man！〃
〃But don't you often find it so？〃 he asked。 〃Do you not often
wish； to take this evening's instance； that clergymen would infuse
themselves with something of St。 Paul's own spirit？ Then perhaps
they would not water all the strength out of his words in their
efforts to explain them。〃
〃That is rather a large demand to make upon them； is it not？〃
〃Is it？〃 he questioned。 〃I don't ask them to be inspired saints。
I don't expect St。 Paul's breadth and depth of thought。 But could
they not have something of his vigorous completeness； something of
the intensity of his feeling and belief？ Look at the text of to…
night。 Did not the preacher's examples and applications take
something from its awful unqualified strength？〃
〃Awful！〃 I exclaimed； in surprise； 〃that is hardly the expression I
should have used in connection with those words。〃
〃Why not？〃
〃Oh； I don't know。 The text is very beautiful； of course； and at
times； when people are tiresome and one ought to be nice to them；
it is very difficult to act up to。 But〃
〃But you think that 'awful' is rather a big adjective to use for so
small a duty；〃 interposed Alan； and the moonlight showed the
flicker of a smile upon his face。 Then he continued； gravely； 〃I
doubt whether you yourself realize the full import of the words。
The precept of charity is not merely a code of rules by which to
order our conduct to our neighbors； it is the picture of a
spiritual condition； and such； where it exists in us； must by its
very nature be roused into activity by anything that affects us。
So with this particular injunction； every circumstance in our lives
is a challenge to it； and in presence of all alike it admits of one
attitude only： 'Beareth all things； endureth all things。' I hope
it will be long before that 'all' sticks in your gizzard； Evie；
before you come face to face with things which nature cannot bear；
and yet which must be borne。〃
He stopped； his voice quivering； and then after a pause went on
again more calmly； 〃And throughout it is the same。 Moral precepts
everywhere； which will admit of no compromise； no limitation； and
yet which are at war with our strongest passions。 If one could
only interpose some 'unless；' some 'except；' even an 'until；' which
should be short of the grave。 But we cannot。 The law is infinite；
universal； eternal； there is no escape； no repose。 Resist； strive；
endure； that is the recurring cry； that is existence。〃
〃And peace；〃 I exclaimed； appealingly。 〃Where is there room for
peace； if that be true？〃
He sighed for answer； and then in a changed and lower tone added；
〃However