A month ago he would have scoffed at the idea of there being anything worth considering outside the courts and alleys of the money-changers' market.

To-night he knew of other things.

To-night he knew that all he had done so far was as nothing--that as yet his foot was planted only on the threshold of life, and in the path along which he must hew his way lay many fresh worlds to conquer.

To-night he told himself that he was equal to them all.

There was something out here in the dim moonlight, something suggested by the shadows, the rose-perfumed air, the delicate and languid stillness, which crept into his veins and coursed through his blood like magic.
* * * * * Yet every now and then the same thought came; it lay like a small but threatening black shadow across all those brilliant hopes and dreams which were filling his brain.