Suddenly a memory of that afternoon when he had bade Wonder kiss Silencieux flashed upon him; and once more he heard himself saying: "Silencieux, I bring you my little child." But he had never meant it so.

It had all been a mad fancy.

What was Silencieux herself but a wilful, selfish dream?
He saw it all now.

How could a lifeless image have power over the life of his child?
And yet again, was Silencieux a lifeless image?
And still again, if she were an image, was it not always to an image that humanity from the beginning had been sacrificed?
Yes; perhaps if Silencieux were only an image there was all the more reason to fear her.
When he returned he would go to Silencieux, go on his knees and beg for the life of his child.

Silencieux had been cruel, but she could hardly be so cruel as that.
He drove back across the moor by the doctor's side.
"I have always thought you unwise to live in that valley," said the doctor.