Dumbly his conqueror stood staring down at him.

He seemed to stand above them all in that his moment of dreadful victory.
He spoke at length, and through his voice there ran a curious tremor as of a man a little giddy, a little dazed by immense and appalling height.
"I thought I could do it!" he said.

"I--thought I could!" It was his moment of triumph, of irresistible elation.

The devil in him had fought--and conquered.
It swayed him--and passed.

He was left white to the lips and suddenly, terribly, afraid.
"What have I done to him ?" he asked, and the tremor was gone from his voice; it was level, dead level.