"And he never told the world that the woman had saved the train?" said one youth, after a long pause.
"That was part of his punishment," said the grey man. "It would have undone what she had died for. She was always in terror lest people should know that the man she loved was a coward."
"If I," said the other young man, "had left a woman to drown like that in my madness, I would have returned to the river in my senses and thrown myself in."
"So would he have done," said the grey man; "but when he looked into the water it was full of faces and darkness—a grave of horror. He was afraid to die."
"And how do you come to know the story?" said one youth.
The grey man did not answer. He rose and went to the window. As he drew aside the heavy curtain a fork of lightning flashed across his eyes, followed by a loud crash of thunder.
"My God! my God!" he cried, falling upon a chair and covering his face.
The young men started to his side.
