"then john sickened and said: 'bring me into the room of silence.' so they brought him to the place where they sat each day to converse with god in the holy stillness and hear his voice.

"then john said: 'i am about to depart from among you, and before my going i put this command on you that you find in the world a male infant too young to know its father or mother, or without father and mother living. rear that child to manhood in the valley, for even as i depart so will you all do, and the garden of eden will be left tenantless.'

"so when john was dead matthew went forth and found a male child and brought him to the valley and the two said: 'where was the child found and what is its name?' and matthew said: 'it was found in the place to which god led me and its name hereafter shall be david.'

"so peace was on the valley, and david grew tall and strong. then luke died, and paul died in a drift of snow and matthew grew very old and wrote these words for the eye of david."

the smooth running, finely made letters come to an end, the narrative was taken up in fresher ink and in a bold, heavy hand of large characters.

"one day matthew called for david and said: 'my hands are cold, whereby i know i am about to die. as i lay last night with death for a bedfellow thoughts came to me, which are these: we have been brother and father and son to one another. but do not grieve that i am gone. i inherit a place of peace, but you shall come to torment unless you find a woman in the world and bring her here to bear children to you and be your wife.'

"then david groaned in his heart and he said: 'how shall i know her when i find her?'

"and matthew said: 'by her simplicity.'

"and david said: 'there may be many who are simple.'

"and matthew said: 'i have never known such a woman. but when you see her your heart will rise up and claim her. therefore, within five years, before you are grown too old, go out and find this woman and wed her.'

"and on that day matthew died, and a great anguish came to david. the days passed heavily. and for five years he has waited."

there was another interval of blank paper, and then the pen had been taken up anew, hurriedly, and driven with such force and haste that it tore the paper-surface.

"the woman is here!"

her fingers stiffened about the edges of the book. raising her head, she looked out through the little window and saw the tree tops down the hillside brightening against the red of the dawn. but connor could not see her face. he only noted the place at which she had stopped, and now he began to laugh.

"can you beat that? that poor dub!"

she turned to him, slowly, a face so full of mute anguish that the gambler stopped his laughter to gape at her. was she taking this seriously? was this the bluebeard's chamber which was to ruin all his work?

not that he perceived what was going on in her mind, but her expression made him aware, all at once, of the morning-quiet. far down the valley a horse neighed and a bird swooping past the window cast in on them one thrilling phrase of music. and connor saw the girl change under his very eye. she was looking straight at him without seeing his face and into whatever distance her glance went he felt that he could not follow her. here at the very threshold of success the old ledger was proving a more dangerous enemy than david himself. connor fumbled for words, the open sesame which would let in the common sense of the everyday world upon the girl. but the very fear of that crisis kept him dumb. he glanced from the pale hand on the ledger to her face, and it seemed to him that beauty had fallen upon her out of the book.

"the woman is here! god has sent her!"

at that she cried out faintly, her voice trembling with self-scorn: "god has sent me—me!"

"the heart of david stood up and beat in his throat when he saw her," went on the rough, strong writing. "she passed the gate. every step she took was into the soul of david. as i went beside her the trees grew taller and the sky was more blue.

"she has passed the gate. she is here. she is mine!

"what am i that she should be mine? god has sent her to show me that my strength is clumsy. i have no words to fit her. when i look into her eyes i see her soul; my vision leaps from star to star, a great distance, and i am filled with humility. o father in heaven, having led her to my hand, teach me to give her happiness, to pour her spirit full of content."

she closed the book reverently and pressed her hands against her face. he heard her murmuring: "what have i done? god forgive me!"

connor grew angry. it was no time for trifling.

he touched her arm: "come on out of this, ruth. if you're going to get religion, try it later."

at that she flung away and faced him, and what he saw was a revelation of angry scorn.

"don't touch me," she stammered at him. "you cheat! is that the barbarian you were telling me about? is that the cruel, selfish fool you tried to make me think was david of eden?"

his own weapons were turning against him, but he retained his self-control.

"i won't listen to you, ruth. it's this hush-stuff that's got you. it's this infernal room. it makes you feel that the fathead has actually got the dope from god."

"how do you know that god hasn't come to him here? at least, he's had the courage and the faith to believe it. what faith have we? i know your heaven, ben connor. it's paved with dollar bills. and mine, too. we've come sneaking in here like cowardly thieves. oh, i hate myself, i loathe myself. i've stolen his heart, and what have i to give him in exchange? i'm not even worthy to love him! barbarian? he's so far greater and finer than we are that we aren't worthy to look in his face!"

"by the lord!" groaned connor. "are you double-crossing me?"

"could i do anything better? who tempted me like a devil and brought me here? who taught me to play the miserable game with david? you, you, you!"

perspiration was streaming down the white face of connor.

"try to give me a chance and listen one minute, ruth. but for god's sake don't fly off the handle and smash everything when we're next door to winning. maybe i've done wrong. i don't see how. i've tried to give this david a chance to be happy the way any other man would want to be happy. now you turn on me because he's written some high-flying chatter in a book!"

"because i thought he was a selfish sham, and now i see that he's real. he's humbled himself to me—to me! i'm not worthy to touch his feet! and you—"

"maybe i'm rotten. i don't say i'm all i should be, but half of what i've done has been for you. the minute i saw you at the key in lukin i knew i wanted you. i've gone on wanting you ever since. it's the first time in my life—but i love you, ruth. give me one more chance. put this thing through and i'll turn over the rest of my life to fixing you up so's you'll be happy."

she watched him for a moment incredulously; then she broke into hysterical laughter.

"if you loved me could you have made me do what i've done? love? you? but i know what real love is. it's written into that book. i've heard him talk. i'm full of his voice, of his face.

"it's the only fine thing about me. for the rest, we're shams, both of us—cheats—crooked—small, sneaking cheats!"

she stopped with a cry of alarm; the door behind her stood open and in the entrance was david of eden. in the background was the ugly, grinning face of joseph. this was his revenge.

connor made one desperate effort to smile, but the effort failed wretchedly. neither of them could look at david; they could only steal glances at one another and see their guilt.

"david, my brother—" began the gambler heavily.

but the voice of the master broke in: "oh, abraham, abraham, would to god that i had listened!"

he stood to one side, and made a sweeping gesture.

"come out, and bring the woman."

they shrank past him and stood blinking in the light of the newly risen sun. joseph was hugging himself with the cold and his mute delight. the master closed the door and faced them again.

"even in the room of silence!" he said slowly. "was it not enough to bring sin into the garden? but you have carried it even into the holy place!"

connor found his tongue. the fallen head of ruth told him that there was no help to be looked for from her, and the crisis forced him into a certain boisterous glibness of speech.

"sin, brother david? what sin? to be sure, ruth was too curious. she went into the room of silence, but as soon as i knew she was there i went to fetch her, when—"

he had even cast out one arm in a gesture of easy persuasion, and now it was caught at the wrist in a grip that burned through the flesh to the bones. another hand clutched his coat at the throat. he was lifted and flung back against the wall by a strength like that of a madman, or a wild animal. one convulsive effort showed him his helplessness, and he cried out more in horror than fear. another cry answered him, and ruth strove to press in between, tearing futilely at the arms of david.

a moment later connor was miraculously freed. he found david a long pace away and ruth before him, her arms flung out to give him shelter while she faced the master of the garden.

"he is saved," said david, "and you are free. your love has ransomed him. what price has he paid to win you so that you will even risk death for him?"

"oh, david," sobbed the girl, "don't you see i only came between you to keep you from murder? because he isn't worth it!"

but the master of the garden was laughing in a way that made connor look about for a weapon and shrink because he found none; only the greedy eyes of joseph, close by. david had come again close to the girl; he even took both her hands in one of his and slipped his arm about her. to connor his self-control now seemed more terrible than that one outbreak of murdering passion.

"still lies?" said david. "still lies to me? beautiful ruth—never more beautiful than now, even when you lied to me with your eyes and your smiles and your promises! the man is nothing. he came like a snake to me, and his life is worth no more than the life of a snake. let him live, let him die; it is no matter. but you, ruth! i am not even angered. i see you already from a great distance, a beautiful, evil thing that has been so close to me. for you have been closer to me than you are now that my arm is around you, touching you for the last time, holding your warmth and your tender body, keeping both your hands, which are smaller and softer than the hands of a child. but mighty hands, nevertheless.

"they have held the heart of david, and they have almost thrown his soul into eternal hellfire. yet you have been closer to me than you are now. you have been in my heart of hearts. and i take you from it sadly—with regret, for the sin of loving you has been sweet."

she had been sobbing softly all this time, but now she mastered herself long enough to draw back a little, taking his hands with a desperate eagerness, as though they gave her a hold upon his mind.

"give me one minute to speak out what i have to say. will you give me one half minute, david?"

his glance rose past her, higher, until it was fixed on the east, and as he stood there with his head far back connor guessed for the first time at the struggle which was going on within him. the girl pressed closer to him, drawing his hands down as though she would make him stoop to her.

"look at me, david!"

"i see your face clearly."

"still, look at me for the one last time."

"i dare not, ruth!"

"but will you believe me?"

"i shall try. but i am glad to hear your voice, for the last time."

"i've come to you like a cheat, david, and i've tried to win you in order to steal the horses away, but i've stayed long enough to see the truth.

"if everything in the valley were offered me—the horses and the men—and everything outside of the valley, without you, i'd throw them away. i don't want them. oh, if prayers could make you believe, you'd believe me now; because i'm praying to you, david.

"you love me, david. i can feel you trembling, and i love you more than i ever dreamed it was possible to love. let me come back to you. i don't want the world or anything that's in it. i only want you. david—i only want you! will you believe me?"

and connor saw david of eden sway with the violence of his struggle.

but he murmured at length, as one in wonder:

"how you are rooted in me, ruth! how you are wound into my life, so that it is like tearing out my heart to part from you. but the god of the garden and john and matthew has given me strength." he stepped back from her.

"you are free to go, but if you return the doom against you is death like that of any wild beast that steals down the cliffs to kill in my fields. begone, and let me see your face no more. joseph, take them to the gate."

and he turned his back with a slowness which made his resolution the more unmistakable.