And in that atmosphere of Nature's workshop Willems felt soothed and lulled into forgetfulness of his past, into indifference as to his future.

The recollections of his triumphs, of his wrongs and of his ambition vanished in that warmth, which seemed to melt all regrets, all hope, all anger, all strength out of his heart.

And he lay there, dreamily contented, in the tepid and perfumed shelter, thinking of Aissa's eyes; recalling the sound of her voice, the quiver of her lips--her frowns and her smile.
She came, of course.

To her he was something new, unknown and strange.
He was bigger, stronger than any man she had seen before, and altogether different from all those she knew.

He was of the victorious race.