Chapter III: Act II: Scene I

A small ward--the women’s ward--in a hospital; several cots with patients in them are visible. One patient is in a wheeled chair. Screens stand by the cots. There are plants, pictures, the cheerful features of the modern hospital. Two nurses are seen busy with patients.

_Enter_ DR. GAZELL _and_ DR. CARVER.

DR. GAZELL (_seats himself by one of the patients; speaks blandly_). And how do we find ourselves to-day?

PATIENT (_turning her face, on which can be seen traces of tears_). Bad enough--worse. I’ve been so upset by--

DR. GAZELL. Yes, yes. I know. It is truly shocking!

DR. CARVER (_addressing one of the nurses_). You become your cap to-day. You have an uncommonly good color--I mean to operate on No. 21.

NURSE. Do you really? We thought her improving. She’s nervous to-day--on account of Dr. Thorne.

DR. CARVER. Yes. Thorne had things all his own way here, as usual. I mean to operate,--if Dr. Gazell can manage her.

NURSE (_coquettishly_). You are so expert,--such an easy surgeon. You don’t mind it more than a layman would carving a Christmas _goo_--oose. And what would you operate for--on No. 21?

DR. CARVER. Appendicitis, of course.

NURSE. Really? You are so clever on diagnosis. Now, I hadn’t thought of appendicitis--in her case. Do you know--I thought it more like pleurisy?

DR. CARVER (_looks keenly at the nurse to discover if she is making game of him; speaks pompously_). The nurse, as you have been taught in your training-school, can have no opinions. Now, the physician--

NURSE (_demurely_). Oh, of course. I wouldn’t have you think I’m presuming to set up mine. She might have measles, or the grippe, for anything _I_ should know.

DR. CARVER. Now you speak very properly indeed.

DR. GAZELL (_at bedside of No. 21_). Is the pain more severe on the right?

PATIENT. I didn’t say I had any pain--now.

DR. GAZELL (_soothingly_). Increasing toward night? Paroxysms? Or is it steady?

PATIENT. I said I’d got over the pain. That has all gone. It is the weakness--the deadly weakness.

DR. GAZELL. Just so. That weakness is a most significant symptom--I think you said it was accompanied by nausea?

PATIENT. No, I didn’t. Not a bit.

DR. GAZELL. Just so. Dr. Carver? Here a moment? (_To the patient._) I’m sure we can relieve all that. Just a little operation--a very pretty little operation--would set you right again in a week or two.

DR. CARVER (_coming to the cotside of No. 21; speaks eagerly_). It is such a beautiful operation! Why, I’ve known patients _beg_ for it,--it is so beautiful.

PATIENT (_beginning to cry_). Dr. Thorne said there was no need of anything of the kind.

DR. GAZELL (_stiffening_). Dr. Thorne was an able man--but eccentric. His professional colleagues did not always agree with him.

_Enter_ DR. THORNE. (_He has wasted since his last appearance; looks outcast, wan, and wretched; is splashed with mud; still hatless; stands at the lower end of the ward, gazing blindly about._)

PATIENT NO. 21. Dr. Thorne used to say that if we had better doctors, we shouldn’t need so many surgeons. He said the true treatment would prevent half the surgery in the city.

(DR. THORNE _starts, and moves towards the patient_.)

DR. GAZELL (_soothingly_). Yes. Just so. Dr. Thorne had great confidence in himself.

PATIENT (_rousing_). No more than his patients had in him.

DR. CARVER. Irritable! Very irritable! A significant symptom, Dr. Gazell. In my opinion, this extreme irritability _demands_ an operation for appendicitis.

FIRST NURSE (_listening, laughs; addresses_ SECOND NURSE). Now, if one could only apply that! Take a cross man,--any cross man,--say a brother, or a husband, or even a doctor, and if he carried it too far, just call on Dr. Carver. Why, it would revolutionize society. And he is so expert! He doesn’t mind it any more than carving a _goo_--oose. Yes, sir! I’m coming. (_Demurely obedient; hurries to_ DR. GAZELL.)

(SECOND NURSE _moves to the rear of the ward to a patient behind a screen_.)

(DR. THORNE _advances slowly; stands in the middle of the ward, unnoticed_.)

PATIENT NO. 21 (_louder_). I say, when a man’s dead is the time to speak for him. And I’ll stand up for my dear dead doctor as long as I live.

VOICE FROM ANOTHER COT. And so would I,--and longer, if I got the chance.

ANOTHER VOICE. He doesn’t need anybody to stand up for him. His deeds do follow him. And he rests from his labors.

(DR. THORNE _smiles bitterly; stands with his face towards the speaker. He knots his hands in front of him, and thus advances with a motion so slow as to be almost stealthy._)

VOICE FROM ANOTHER COT. He wouldn’t care so much for that. It’s Bible. He was not a religious man. But he was as _kind to me_! (_Weeps._)

OTHER VOICES. And to me! Oh, yes, and to me,--as _kind_!

PATIENT IN THE WHEELED CHAIR. I couldn’t move in my bed when I came here. I’d been so three years. Look what he’s done for _me_. (_Sobs._)

DR. THORNE (_in a low tone_). Miss Jessie? Don’t cry so. You’ll make yourself worse. Go back to bed, Jessie, and--see. I’ll tell you a secret. Don’t tell the others just yet. I wasn’t killed, Jessie. That was a newspaper canard. _I’m a live man yet._ See! Look up, Jessie. Look at me,--can’t you? (_Pleads._) Won’t you, Jessie?

PATIENT IN THE WHEELED CHAIR (_stares past him at_ DR. GAZELL _and_ DR. CARVER). And to think of the likes of them,--in his place! What ever’ll become of this hospital without _him_?

DR. THORNE (_with trembling lip_). You don’t hear me, do you, Jessie? Well--well. I must have met with some cerebral shock affecting the organs of speech. It is a clear case of aphasia. I can’t make myself understood. It--it’s hard. Jessie? (_Louder._) I can’t see things go wrong with _you_,--no matter how it is with me. You’ve been in that chair long enough for to-day. (_Imperiously._) Jessie, go back to bed! Stop crying about me, and go back to your bed.

(JESSIE _wavers; shades her eyes with her hands; stares about her; slowly turns her wheeled chair and moves away_.)

[_Exit_ JESSIE.

DR. THORNE (_moves more naturally and rapidly; stands by the cot of No. 21; speaks_). Good-morning, Mrs. True. I meant to have seen you last night. I was--unavoidably detained. I hope you’re not worse this morning?

PATIENT (_with tears_). I’ve cried half the night.

DR. THORNE. That’s a pity. But you won’t cry any more. I’ll take care of you now.

PATIENT (_looks up wearily; turns her face on her pillow and sobs_).

DR. THORNE. Clearly aphasia. She does not understand a word I say. Dr. Gazell! Gazell! Dr. Carver?

(_The two physicians murmur together._)

DR. THORNE. Gazell? What’s that? The knife? For Mrs. True? Excuse me, but I cannot permit it.

DR. CARVER. It would be such a pretty little operation. The students are getting restless for something. I told them--

DR. GAZELL. It is well-defined appendicitis.

DR. THORNE. Well-defined appendi--fiddlesticks! It is nothing but pleurisy. I tell you, Gazell, I will not have it!

DR. GAZELL (_looks around uncomfortably; speaks with hesitation_). Of course, Thorne would not have agreed with us.

DR. THORNE (_grips_ DR. GAZELL _by the arm_). I tell you it would be butchery, Gazell! What are you thinking of? _Gazell!_

DR. GAZELL. But he was a very opinionated man,--everybody knew that.

(DR. THORNE _drops_ DR. GAZELL’S _arm and walks away with a gesture of distress_.)

SECOND NURSE (_to_ FIRST NURSE; _moves out from behind the screen_). Very invigorating day!

FIRST NURSE (_to_ SECOND NURSE). Father Sullivan’s late with the Sacrament. I hope Norah, yonder, won’t get ahead of him. She’s ’most gone. (_Approaching the cot of the patient behind the screen._)

SECOND NURSE (_moves away_). Yes. She’s been unconscious half an hour.

_Enter_ PRIEST. (_He advances to offer Extreme Unction to the dying patient._)

FIRST NURSE. Lovely morning, Father.

DR. THORNE (_standing in the middle of the ward_). They used to call my name when I came in. “Oh, there’s the doctor!” “The doctor’s come!” It ran from cot to cot--like light. And everybody used to smile. Seems to me some of them blessed me. Now--

(_Sobs from the ward._)

DR. THORNE (_tremulously_). My patients! Isn’t there _one_ of you who knows me? Doesn’t _any_body hear me? Don’t cry so! All the symptoms will be worse for it.

THE DYING PATIENT. Doctor? Doctor?

DR. THORNE. That sounds like Norah.

PRIEST (_recites behind the screen at_ NORAH’S _bedside the prayer for the passing soul_). “Proficiscere, anima Christiana, de hoc mundo, in nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, qui te creavit; in nomine Jesu Christi Filii Dei vivi, qui pro te passus est; in nomine Spiritus Sancti”--

DR. THORNE (_softly_). Thank you, Father. (_Stands silently with bowed head._)

_Reënter the patient in the wheeled chair._

JESSIE (_happily_). I’ve had such a lovely dream! I thought Dr. Thorne was here--in this ward. Oh! (_With disappointment._)

DR. THORNE. Jessie!

JESSIE (_sadly_). It was such a lovely dream! (_Droops and turns away._)

(DR. THORNE _walks apart; stands drearily, with downcast eyes_.)

_Enter_ MRS. FAYTH. (_She looks pale and agitated, but quite happy. She is dressed as before, for the street, but her head is bare; is wrapped from head to foot in her long, pale, dove-colored opera cape. She goes straight to_ DR. THORNE, _and touches him upon the arm; speaks softly_.)

MRS. FAYTH. Doctor?

DR. THORNE (_starts_). Oh! Mary Fayth! You? (_He grasps her hand with pathetic eagerness._) Oh, I never was so glad! You are the first person--the only one--nobody else seemed to know me. I might have known _you_ would. Where’s Helen? Isn’t she with you? And you weren’t hurt at all, were you? I have been--anxious about you. Those cowardly papers said--I tried to get right over and see you. And, after all, you’re not hurt. I thank-- (_Looks around confusedly._) Ah, what shall I thank?

PRIEST. Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.

(DR. THORNE _listens with troubled interest, like a child learning a hard lesson_.)

MRS. FAYTH (_smiling_). I can only stay a minute. I must get back to my poor Fred.

DR. THORNE. Don’t leave me.

MRS. FAYTH. Oh, poor doctor! Don’t you _see_? The carriage overturned. I was badly hurt. I only died an hour ago.

DR. THORNE (_gasps, and stares at_ MRS. FAYTH. _He tries to speak, but can only articulate_). You died an hour ago? And I? And _I_?

MRS. FAYTH (_still smiling, with her sweet, mysterious smile_). Don’t take it so hard, doctor. I came to ex-plain it to you. Why, it’s the most beautiful thing in the world! (_Glides away slowly, but smiling to the last._)

DR. THORNE (_throws up his arms in anguish_). I am dead! My God! _I am a dead man!_

(_His face falls into his hands, his whole body collapses slowly, he drops._)

END OF SCENE I.

SCENE II.

It is night on a street in the West End of the city. At the right stands a church, dimly lighted for a choir to practice. An anthem on the organ can be heard. At the left appears Dr. Thorne’s house, viewed from the outside. It has high stone steps, and lights are in the window. One window on the ground floor has the curtain raised. The interior of the library can be seen through the window,--glimpses of the books, the pictures, the table, the lamp with the white lace shade. The room is empty. Into it--

_Enter_ MRS. THORNE. (_She is dressed in deep black. Her face is drawn with grief. Her hands are clasped in front of her. She paces the room drearily. She is alone. She seats herself by the table; tries to read; lays the book down, and rises; paces the room._)

[_Exit_ MRS. THORNE.

_Enter_ DR. THORNE _at the far end of the street near the church. (He is dressed as before. He is still pale. His manner has increased in agitation, but a new resolution gives more firmness to his wasted countenance. He speaks, meditatively._)

DR. THORNE. After all, there _is_ another life. I really did not think it. (_Stops and passes his hand over his eyes; muses._) God knows--if there is a God--how it is with me. If I have never done anything, or been anything, or felt anything that was fit to _last_, I have loved one woman, and her only--and thought high thoughts for her, and felt great emotions for her, and I could forget myself for her sake--and I would have had joy to suffer for her, and I’ve been a better man for love of her. And I have loved her,--oh, I have so loved her that ten thousand deaths could not murder that living love! (_Falters._) And I spoke to her--I said to her--like any low and brutal fellow, any common wife-tormentor--I went from her dear presence to _this_. (_Brokenly._) ... And here there is neither speech nor language. Neither earth nor heaven, nor my love ... nor my shame ... can give my famished eyes the sight of her dear face,--nor my sealed lips the power to say, Forgive!

(_The organ can be heard from the church._)

DR. THORNE (_without noticing the anthem_). I will not bear it. No--no. I _will_ not! I _will_ go to her! (_Starts to rush up the street, whose familiar precincts he seems for the first time to recognize._) Why, there is my own house! She can’t be two rods away. I wonder if a dead man can get into his own home? _Helen?_ (_His feet lag heavily; he moves like one who is wading in water. He makes the motions of one who withstands a strong blast or an invisible force. He is beaten back. Suddenly he raves._) You are playing with me! You torture a miserable man. Who and what are you? Show me what I have to fight, and let me wrestle for my liberty! Though I am a ghost, let me wrestle like a man! Let me to my wife! Give way and let me seek her! (_Slowly recedes, as if beaten back; bows his head. The man sobs._)

CHOIR FROM THE CHURCH (_chant_).

“God is a Spirit.
God is a Spirit.
And they that worship Him”--

(_Choir breaks off. The organ sounds on._)

(DR. THORNE _seems to listen, but with a kind of anger. He slowly recedes, as if pushed back._)

[_Exit_ DR. THORNE.

_Enter the_ Veiled Woman. (_She stands mutely and wretchedly. Watches the house. Wrings her hands, but makes no sound._)

_Enter_ MRS. THORNE. (_Within the house; can be seen plainly from the street through the window. She advances and draws the shade still higher; stands close to the window, pressing her hands against the sides of her eyes; looks out._)

(_The_ Veiled Woman _shrinks at the sight of_ MRS. THORNE.)

[_Exit the_ Woman.

_Reënter_ DR. THORNE _at the other end of the street_. (_He speaks shrewdly._) It is nearer at this end. And perhaps, if I didn’t have to get by that church-- (_Hurries up opposite the house. Suddenly he sees her._) Oh, there’s Helen! God! It is my wife. I--see--my--wife. (_Brokenly._) Dear Helen! (_Pushes toward the house. At the foot of his own steps he falters and falls, still as if beaten back. He struggles as a man would struggle for his life. The veins stand out on his face and on his clinched hands. He cries out._) I’m coming, Helen! It is only I, my girl. Don’t be frightened, dear! I wonder would she be afraid of me? Perhaps it would shock her. Live people and dead people don’t seem to understand each other. But I’ll risk it. Helen would go alone and lie down alive in a grave at midnight, and never look over her shoulder--if she thought she could see _me_. I know Helen. I’ll try again. (_He pushes and urges his way onward. But the invisible Power restrains him, as before. He stretches his arms towards the lighted window._) Here I am, Helen! I can’t get any farther, somehow.... Come and open the door for me, my girl,--the way you used to do. Won’t you, Helen? With the boy in your arms? Perhaps if _you_ opened the door,--I could get in. I ... (_After a silence._) I won’t stay very long. I won’t trouble you any, Helen. I know I don’t belong there any more. I won’t intrude. (_Wistfully._) Helen! I was cruel to you. I have been ashamed of myself. I thought if I could get in long enough to say-- (_Reflects._) Mary Fayth went back to see _Fred_. Nothing prevented her--

(MRS. THORNE _throws open the window. Leans out and looks about._)

(MAGGIE _is seen moving about the lighted room_.)

(_People in the street pass._)

(MRS. THORNE _hastily shuts the window_.)

DR. THORNE (_piteously_). Helen!

(_The organ sounds from the church._)

DR. THORNE (_turns suddenly, as if turning on an antagonist_). What art Thou that dost withstand me? I am a dead and helpless man. _What_ wouldst Thou with me? _Where_ gainest Thou thy force upon me? Art Thou verily that ancient Myth that men were wont to call Almighty God? (_He lifts his face to the sky; holds up his hands as if he held up a question or an argument._)

CHOIR FROM THE CHURCH:--

“God is a Spirit.
God is a Spirit.
They that worship Him
Must worship Him in Spirit”--

MAGGIE (_opens the door. The lighted hall is seen behind_). There’s nobody here, Mrs. Thorne.

(MRS. THORNE, _wearing a slight, white shawl which falls from her as she moves, comes to the open door; motions_ MAGGIE _away_.)

[_Exit_ MAGGIE.

MRS. THORNE (_softly_). Esmerald? He might be out there in the dark. Who knows what spirits do? Esmerald? Would God that I had died for you! Oh, my dear!

DR. THORNE. _Helen!_

MRS. THORNE. If he were there he would answer me if it cost him his living soul.

DR. THORNE. Helen, I answer you, for I _am_ a living soul. _Helen!_ (_He struggles mightily; crawls up the steps, reaches with the tips of his fingers the fringe of her white shawl, which has fallen down the steps, and lies there unnoticed._) Helen, look down! _Down._ (_He clutches the white fringe to his lips. He kisses it wildly._)

(MRS. THORNE _lifts her face to the sky_.)

DR. THORNE. I can’t get any higher,--not any nearer, dear.

MRS. THORNE. There is no one here. (_Weeping._) There is nothing here. (_She shuts the door slowly and reluctantly; remembers the shawl, which she draws in with her._)

(DR. THORNE _clings to the shawl in vain. Moaning, he kisses the doorsteps of his own home where the garment had touched them._)

END OF SCENE II.

SCENE III.

A narrow defile or pass between high mountains. The light is dim. The pass winds irregularly, and is often rough, but is always upwards. The scenery is unearthly. No sign of life is to be seen. A distant storm can be heard.

_Enter_ DR. THORNE (_slowly, holding a staff; he is robed in purple, a flowing garment, not unlike a talith or a toga. His face, still pale, is heavily lined; but more with anxiety than with resentment; its expression is somewhat softer. He speaks_).

DR. THORNE. I wonder what is to be done with me next? I see no particular reason for climbing these mountains. There seems to be nothing for a dead man to do but to obey orders. Well (_candidly_), I’ve given my share of them in my time. I suppose it’s fair enough to turn about and take a few--now. (_He smiles. After a pause, climbing slowly._) I must say I can’t call this an attractive country--so far. Its main features are not genial.

(_The storm increases; there is thunder and cloud._)

DR. THORNE (_looking about_). It seems to be in the cyclonic belt. There’s a storm of some sort,--I should say two of them fighting up in these hills. Hear them close and clinch! Like a man’s two natures; civil war all the time. And no truce! (_Muses._) It’s not a social region, certainly. I don’t know that I recall, really, ever being in a place that was so desolate. There isn’t so much as a wild animal, nor a bird flying over. It reminds me of--what was it? I can’t recall the words. It seems to me my mother taught them to me when I was a little lad. But they have quite gone. Beautiful literature in that old Book! It’s a good while since I’ve dipped into it. I’ve had too much to do. What was it?

“Though I walk--When I walk”--

(_He breaks off; climbs stoutly. The storm darkens down. For the first time_ DR. THORNE’S _face expresses something like alarm. He looks about like a man who would call for help, but is too proud to do so. He speaks._)

This is really growing serious. I wish I could remember those words. Now I think of it, we were on our knees. A most unnatural posture! My mother was a sweet saint,--rest her pure spirit! (_It lightens as he says this._)

VOICES FROM BEYOND (_softly chanting_).

“And when I’m lost in deep despair
Be thou with me....
Until life’s daylight ended be,
Be thou with me, with me.”

DR. THORNE (_lifts his head to listen_). There’s a good musical taste in this country, at all events. That’s something. What were those words? Ah, I have it.

“Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow
Thou shalt be with me.”

It went in some such way. (_Repeats perplexedly._)

“_Thou_ shalt be with me?”

(_Sadly._) A beautiful superstition.

(_The storm comes on heavily, with darkness and lightning. Through the gloom his solitary form can be seen manfully climbing. He exhibits no panic, but his evident bewilderment grows upon him. He mutters._)

The desolation of desolations! I shall be glad when I get out of it. What solitude! Of all the people I have known--dead or living--there is not one to stay by me.

VOICES FROM BEYOND.

“Be Thou near him!”

_Enter, on the pass above him, a young girl repeating prayers on a rosary. She is a plain, unattractive girl, folded in a dull gray gown that wraps her loosely. Her face is earnest and devout._

DR. THORNE. Why, Norah!

NORAH (_looking back_). Oh, it is the Doctor.

DR. THORNE. I can’t overtake you, Norah.

NORAH. And I’ve only died the day.

DR. THORNE. But you’ve got the start of me, Norah. You are higher up. I am glad to see you, Norah (_eagerly_). But I can’t reach you.

NORAH (_holds down her hand_). Come up, Doctor! Come up! I’ll help you, Doctor.

DR. THORNE (_gratefully_). Thank you, Norah.

NORAH. It’s to Purrgatory I’d be goin’. But you’re the herretic, Doctor. Which way do you be goin’?

DR. THORNE (_shakes his head_). I don’t know, Norah. You are wiser than I am--in this foreign place.

NORAH (_holds down her hand_). The dear Doctor! Ye were that kind to me, Doctor,--at the hospital, and forninst the house where I was worrkin’. It’s niver a cint I had to pay yez for yer thruble. If I’d been a pretty lady with a purrse of gold, ye never could have put yerself about more than ye did for the likes of me. It’s not meself that would have died the day if _you’d_ been there. Doctor? Would yez mind, if I should--bless you, Doctor? There’s kindness onto kindness, and mercy goin’ after mercy that ye did me, all hidin’ in a poor girrl’s heart to rise and meet you here. I was sick an’ ye did visit me.

DR. THORNE (_melting_). When did I ever show you all that kindness, Norah? I don’t remember--

NORAH. And I don’t forget. Take my hand, now, Doctor, do. It must be lonesome down below there by yersel’. (_Touches her rosary. Her lips move in prayer._)

DR. THORNE (_climbing on, grasps_ NORAH’S _hand_). Thank you, Norah (_gently_).

(_There is a lull in the storm. It grows lighter._)

(DR. THORNE _and the Irish girl climb on together silently_.)

(_It brightens at the brow of the mountain. Dim outlines of figures are faintly seen at the summit. They waver, and melt away._)

DR. THORNE (_gradually loosening his hold of_ NORAH’S _hand, speaks, but not to_ NORAH, _bitterly_). Now stop a moment. Where will all this end? Rebelling, I obey; and obeying, I rebel. I am become what we used to call a spirit. And this is what it means! Better might one become a molecule, for those at least express the Laws of the Universe, and do not suffer. I don’t incline to go any higher. (_Drops back._) Every step is taking me further away from my wife.

NORAH (_anxiously_). Doctor? Doctor! (_She climbs on, but looks back, beckoning._)

DR. THORNE (_pays no attention to_ NORAH. _Retraces his steps down the narrow path_). Come what may, I _will_ not go any further from Helen. I’ll perish first, in this unearthly place. (_He continues to descend; stands lost in thought. The storm darkens round him, but lightens beyond him. At the summit dim outlines can be seen again. These brighten faintly._)

(NORAH _reaches her arms towards them; climbs on_.)

DR. THORNE. It was something to be in the same world with Helen. (_Muses._) Oh, hot in my anger I went from her. And cold, indeed, did I return. (_Still descending._) I will go back. I will get as near the old system of things as I can. I will not put another span of space between myself and Helen. Poor, poor girl!

(DR. THORNE, _doggedly descending, does not look up_.)

(_White-robed forms at the summit brighten. Arms are stretched downwards through a mist. Hands beckon. One of them reaches down and clasps_ NORAH’S _hand; draws her up_.)

NORAH (_looking back_). Doctor!

(NORAH _vanishes_.)

(_The pass grows dark. Figures at the summit dim._)

(_Enter, from a darkness in the mountains, the_ Woman _in flame-color. Her ashen mantle is now thrown back, but still clings to her. She stands mournfully regarding_ DR. THORNE. _She does not address him, but slowly extends her arms._)

(DR. THORNE _does not observe the_ Woman. _She does not obtrude herself upon his attention._)

[_Exit the_ Woman _into the darkness whence she came_.

DR. THORNE (_with frowning face descends; he murmurs_). And a few days ago I was troubled because I had lost a few thousand _dollars_ in Santa Ma.... I saved up _money_! (_Scornfully._) I would accumulate a _fortune_. Oh, the whole of it, ten hundred thousand-fold the whole of it, for one hour in a dead man’s desolated home! (_Pushes downwards, suddenly and silently._)

_Enter_ AZRAEL, ANGEL OF DEATH. (_The pass blackens. The mountain summit is wrapped in darkness._)

(AZRAEL _stands tall and resplendent. He is a white-robed figure, winged and powerful. The light falls only upon_ AZRAEL _and upon the man. It can be seen that this gleam comes from a sword held in the hand of the Angel. Without a word he lifts the flaming sword, and with it bars the narrow pass from side to side._)

DR. THORNE (_in a ringing voice_). Azrael!

(AZRAEL _does not reply_.)

DR. THORNE (_under his breath_). Azrael, Angel of Death! (_Falls back._)

(_The two figures confront each other in silence._ DR. THORNE _desperately flings himself towards the Angel. Without a touch he is beaten back._ AZRAEL _stands immovable. His face grows solemn with pity._ DR. THORNE _retreats; advances again; raises his staff, and strikes it upon the Angel’s sword. The staff flames up, burns, and drops to ashes on the ground._)

(DR. THORNE _recedes a few steps; shades his eyes with his hands; regards the Angel blindly; wavers, turns. Slowly, with bent figure, he weakly reascends the mountain; stumbles and falls; regains his footing; climbs on alone, and now without his staff; does not look back._)

(AZRAEL _stands immovable, with drawn sword_.)

VOICES FROM BEYOND (_sing so softly that they seem rather to be breathing than singing_):--

“The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on ...
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost a while.”

(_As they sing the summit mellows slowly. No figures appear. At the brow of the mountain a single gleam of light pierces the gloom. It brightens rather than broadens. It has the color of dawn._)

(AZRAEL _fades away, the sword vanishing last_.)

(DR. THORNE _climbs up, with eyes lifted towards the light on the summit, which strikes his face and figure_.)

AS THE VOICES SING:--

“And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost a while.”

END OF ACT II.