ButTorpenhowwasinthesouthofEngland，inspectingdockyardsinthecompanyoftheNilghaiHisletterswerebriefandfullofmystery。
　　DickhadneveraskedanybodytohelphiminhisjoysorhissorrowsHeargued，inthelonelinessofhisstudio，henceforwardtobedecoratedwithafilmofgraygauzeinonecorner，that，ifhisfatewereblindness，alltheTorpenhowsintheworldcouldnotsavehim’Ican’tcallhimoffhistriptositdownandsympathisewithmeImustpullthroughthisbusinessalone，’hesaidHewaslyingonthesofa，eatinghismoustacheandwonderingwhatthedarknessofthenightwouldbelikeThencametohismindthememoryofaquaintsceneintheSoudanAsoldierhadbeennearlyhackedintwobyabroad-bladedArabspearForoneinstantthemanfeltnopainLookingdown，hesawthathislife-bloodwasgoingfromhimThestupidbewildermentonhisfacewassointenselycomicthatbothDickandTorpenhow，stillpantingandunstrungfromafightforlife，hadroaredwithlaughter，inwhichthemanseemedasifhewouldjoin，but，ashislipspartedinasheepishgrin，theagonyofdeathcameuponhim，andhepitchedgruntingattheirfeetDicklaughedagain，rememberingthehorrorItseemedsoexactlylikehisowncase。
　　’ButIhavealittlemoretimeallowedme，’hesaidHepacedupanddowntheroom，quietlyatfirst，butafterwardswiththehurriedfeetoffearItwasasthoughablackshadowstoodathiselbowandurgedhimtogoforward；andtherewereonlyweavingcirclesandfloatingpin-dotsbeforehiseyes。
　　’Weneedtobecalm，Binkie；wemustbecalm。’Hetalkedaloudforthesakeofdistraction’Thisisn’tniceatallWhatshallwedo？WemustdosomethingOurtimeisshortIshouldn’thavebelievedthatthismorning；
　　butnowthingsaredifferentBinkie，wherewasMoseswhenthelightwentout？’
　　Binkiesmiledfromeartoear，asawell-bredterriershould，butmadenosuggestion。
　　’“Weretherebutworldenoughandtime，Thiscoyness，Binkie，werenotcrimeButatmybackIalwayshear——“’Hewipedhisforehead，whichwasunpleasantlydamp’WhatcanIdo？WhatcanIdo？I
　　haven’tanynotionsleft，andIcan’tthinkconnectedly，butImustdosomething，orIshallgooffmyhead。’
　　Thehurriedwalkrecommenced，Dickstoppingeverynowandagaintodragforthlong-neglectedcanvasesandoldnote-books；forheturnedtohisworkbyinstinct，asathingthatcouldnotfail’Youwon’tdo，andyouwon’tdo，’hesaid，ateachinspection’NomoresoldiersIcouldn’tpaint’emSuddendeathcomeshometoonearly，andthisisbattleandmurderforme。’
　　Thedaywasfailing，andDickthoughtforamomentthatthetwilightoftheblindhadcomeuponhimunaware’AllahAlmighty！’hecrieddespairingly，’helpmethroughthetimeofwaiting，andIwon’twhinewhenmypunishmentcomesWhatcanIdonow，beforethelightgoes？’
　　TherewasnoanswerDickwaitedtillhecouldregainsomesortofcontroloverhimselfHishandswereshaking，andhepridedhimselfontheirsteadiness；hecouldfeelthathislipswerequivering，andthesweatwasrunningdownhisfaceHewaslashedbyfear，drivenforwardbythedesiretogettoworkatonceandaccomplishsomething，andmaddenedbytherefusalofhisbraintodomorethanrepeatthenewsthathewasabouttogoblind’It’sahumiliatingexhibition，’hethought，’andI’mgladTorpisn’theretoseeThedoctorsaidIwastoavoidmentalworry。
　　Comehereandletmepetyou，Binkie。’
　　ThelittledogyelpedbecauseDicknearlysqueezedthebarkoutofhim。
　　Thenheheardthemanspeakinginthetwilight，and，doglike，understoodthathistroublestoodofffromhim——
　　’Allahisgood，BinkieNotquitesogentleaswecouldwish，butwe’lldiscussthatlaterIthinkIseemywaytoitnowAllthosestudiesofBessie’sheadwerenonsense，andtheynearlybroughtyourmasterintoascrapeIholdthenotionnowasclearascrystal，——“theMelancoliathattranscendsallwit。”ThereshallbeMaisieinthathead，becauseI
　　shallnevergetMaisie；andBess，ofcourse，becausesheknowsallaboutMelancolia，thoughshedoesn’tknowsheknows；andthereshallbesomedrawinginit，anditshallallendupwithalaughThat’sformyself。
　　Shallshegiggleorgrin？No，sheshalllaughrightoutofthecanvas，andeverymanandwomanthateverhadasorrowoftheirownshall——whatisitthepoemsays？——
　　’UnderstandthespeechandfeelastirOffellowshipinalldisastrousfight。
　　“Inalldisastrousfight“？That’sbetterthanpaintingthethingmerelytopiqueMaisieIcandoitnowbecauseIhaveitinsidemeBinkie，I’mgoingtoholdyouupbyyourtailYou’reanomenComehere。’
　　Binkieswungheaddownwardforamomentwithoutspeaking。
　　’Ratherlikeholdingaguinea-pig；butyou’reabravelittledog，andyoudon’tyelpwhenyou’rehungupItisanomen。’
　　Binkiewenttohisownchair，andasoftenashelookedsawDickwalkingupanddown，rubbinghishandsandchucklingThatnightDickwrotealettertoMaisiefullofthetenderestregardforherhealth，butsayingverylittleabouthisown，anddreamedoftheMelancoliatobebornNottillmorningdidherememberthatsomethingmighthappentohiminthefuture。
　　Hefelltowork，whistlingsoftly，andwasswallowedupintheclean，clearjoyofcreation，whichdoesnotcometomantoooften，lestheshouldconsiderhimselftheequalofhisGod，andsorefusetodieattheappointedtimeHeforgotMaisie，Torpenhow，andBinkieathisfeet，butrememberedtostirBessie，whoneededverylittlestirring，intoatremendousrage，thathemightwatchthesmoulderinglightsinhereyes。
　　Hethrewhimselfwithoutreservationintohiswork，anddidnotthinkofthedoomthatwastoovertakehim，forhewaspossessedwithhisnotion，andthethingsofthisworldhadnopoweruponhim。
　　’You’repleasedto-day，’saidBessie。
　　Dickwavedhismahl-stickinmysticcirclesandwenttothesideboardforadrinkIntheevening，whentheexaltationofthedayhaddieddown，hewenttothesideboardagain，andaftersomevisitsbecameconvincedthattheeye-doctorwasaliar，sincehecouldstillseeeverythingveryclearly。
　　HewasofopinionthathewouldevenmakeahomeforMaisie，andthatwhethershelikeditornotsheshouldbehiswifeThemoodpassednextmorning，butthesideboardandalluponitremainedforhiscomfort。
　　Againhesettowork，andhiseyestroubledhimwithspotsanddashesandblurstillhehadtakencounselwiththesideboard，andtheMelancoliabothonthecanvasandinhisownmindappearedlovelierthaneverTherewasadelightfulsenseofirresponsibilityuponhim，suchastheyfeelwhowalkingamongtheirfellow-menknowthatthedeath-sentenceofdiseaseisuponthem，and，seeingthatfearisbutwasteofthelittletimeleft，areriotouslyhappyThedayspassedwithoutevent。
　　Bessiearrivedpunctuallyalways，and，thoughhervoiceseemedtoDicktocomefromadistance，herfacewasalwaysverynearTheMelancoliabegantoflameonthecanvas，inthelikenessofawomanwhohadknownallthesorrowintheworldandwaslaughingatitItwastruethatthecornersofthestudiodrapedthemselvesingrayfilmandretiredintothedarkness，thatthespotsinhiseyesandthepainsacrosshisheadwereverytroublesome，andthatMaisie’sletterswerehardtoreadandharderstilltoanswerHecouldnottellherofhistrouble，andhecouldnotlaughatheraccountsofherownMelancoliawhichwasalwaysgoingtobefinishedButthefuriousdaysoftoilandthenightsofwilddreamsmadeamendsforall，andthesideboardwashisbestfriendonearth。
　　BessiewassingularlydullSheusedtoshriekwithragewhenDickstaredatherbetweenhalf-closedeyesNowshesulked，orwatchedhimwithdisgust，sayingverylittle。
　　TorpenhowhadbeenabsentforsixweeksAnincoherentnoteheraldedhisreturn’News！greatnews！’hewrote’TheNilghaiknows，andsodoestheKeneuWe’reallbackonThursdayGetlunchandcleanyouraccoutrements。’
　　DickshowedBessietheletter，andsheabusedhimforthathehadeversentTorpenhowawayandruinedherlife。
　　’Well，’saidDick，brutally，’you’rebetterasyouare，insteadofmakinglovetosomedrunkenbeastinthestreet。’HefeltthathehadrescuedTorpenhowfromgreattemptation。
　　’Idon’tknowifthat’sanyworsethansittingtoadrunkenbeastinastudioYouhaven’tbeensoberforthreeweeksYou’vebeensoakingthewholetime；andyetyoupretendyou’rebetterthanme！’
　　’Whatd’youmean？’saidDick。
　　’Mean！You’llseewhenMrTorpenhowcomesback。’
　　ItwasnotlongtowaitTorpenhowmetBessieonthestaircasewithoutasignoffeelingHehadnewsthatwasmoretohimthanmanyBessies，andtheKeneuandtheNilghaiweretramplingbehindhim，callingforDick。
　　’Drinkinglikeafish，’Bessiewhispered’He’sbeenatitfornearlyamonth。’Shefollowedthemenstealthilytohearjudgmentdone。
　　Theycameintothestudio，rejoicing，tobewelcomedovereffusivelybyadrawn，lined，shrunken，haggardwreck，——unshaven，blue-whiteaboutthenostrils，stoopingintheshoulders，andpeeringunderhiseyebrowsnervouslyThedrinkhadbeenatworkassteadilyasDick。
　　’Isthisyou？’saidTorpenhow。
　　’Allthat’sleftofmeSitdownBinkie’squitewell，andI’vebeendoingsomegoodwork。’Hereeledwherehestood。
　　’You’vedonesomeoftheworstworkyou’veeverdoneinyourlife。
　　Manalive，you’re——’
　　Torpenhowturnedtohiscompanionsappealingly，andtheylefttheroomtofindlunchelsewhereThenhespoke；but，sincethereproofofafriendismuchtoosacredandintimateathingtobeprinted，andsinceTorpenhowusedfiguresandmetaphorswhichwereunseemly，andcontemptuntranslatable，itwillneverbeknownwhatwasactuallysaidtoDick，whoblinkedandwinkedandpickedathishandsAfteratimetheculpritbegantofeeltheneedofalittleself-respectHewasquitesurethathehadnotinanywaydepartedfromvirtue，andtherewerereasons，too，ofwhichTorpenhowknewnothingHewouldexplain。
　　Herose，triedtostraightenhisshoulders，andspoketothefacehecouldhardlysee。
　　’Youareright，’hesaid’ButIamright，tooAfteryouwentawayI
　　hadsometroublewithmyeyesSoIwenttoanoculist，andheturnedagasogene——Imeanagas-engine——intomyeyeThatwasverylongagoHesaid，“Scaronthehead，——sword-cutandopticnerve。”MakeanoteofthatSoIamgoingblindIhavesomeworktodobeforeIgoblind，andI
　　supposethatImustdoitIcannotseemuchnow，butIcanseebestwhenIamdrunkIdidnotknowIwasdrunktillIwastold，butImustgoonwithmyworkIfyouwanttoseeit，thereitis。’HepointedtotheallbutfinishedMelancoliaandlookedforapplause。
　　Torpenhowsaidnothing，andDickbegantowhimperfeebly，forjoyatseeingTorpenhowagain，forgriefatmisdeeds——ifindeedtheyweremisdeeds——thatmadeTorpenhowremoteandunsympathetic，andforchildishvanityhurt，sinceTorpenhowhadnotgivenawordofpraisetohiswonderfulpicture。
　　Bessielookedthroughthekeyholeafteralongpause，andsawthetwowalkingupanddownasusual，Torpenhow’shandonDick’sshoulder。
　　HereatshesaidsomethingsoimproperthatitshockedevenBinkie，whowasdribblingpatientlyonthelandingwiththehopeofseeinghismasteragain。
　　CHAPTERXI
　　ThelarkwillmakeherhymntoGod，Thepartridgecallherbrood，WhileIforgettheheathItrod，ThefieldswhereinIstood。
　　’Tisduletoknownotnightfrommorn，ButdeeperduletoknowIcanbuthearthehunter’shornThatonceIusedtoblow——
　　TheOnlySon-
　　ITWASthethirddayafterTorpenhow’sreturn，andhisheartwasheavy。
　　’Doyoumeantotellmethatyoucan’tseetoworkwithoutwhiskey？It’sgenerallytheotherwayabout。’
　　’Canadrunkardswearonhishonour？’saidDick。
　　’Yes，ifhehasbeenasgodamanasyou。’
　　’ThenIgiveyoumywordofhonour，’saidDick，speakinghurriedlythroughparchedlips’Oldman，Icanhardlyseeyourfacenow。
　　You’vekeptmesoberfortwodays，——ifIeverwasdrunk，——andI’vedonenowork。
　　Don’tkeepmebackanymoreIdon’tknowwhenmyeyesmaygiveout。
　　ThespotsanddotsandthepainsandthingsarecrowdingworsethaneverIswearIcanseeallrightwhenI’m——whenI’mmoderatelyscrewed，asyousayGivemethreemoresittingsfromBessieandall——thestuffI
　　want，andthepicturewillbedoneIcan’tkillmyselfinthreedays。
　　ItonlymeansatouchofDTattheworst。’
　　’IfIgiveyouthreedaysmorewillyoupromisemetostopworkand——theotherthing，whetherthepicture’sfinishedornot？’
　　’Ican’tYoudon’tknowwhatthatpicturemeanstomeButsurelyyoucouldgettheNilghaitohelpyou，andknockmedownandtiemeupI
　　shouldn’tfightforthewhiskey，butIshouldforthework。’
　　’Goon，thenIgiveyouthreedays；butyou’renearlybreakingmyheart。’
　　Dickreturnedtohiswork，toilingasonepossessed；andtheyellowdevilofwhiskeystoodbyhimandchasedawaythespotsinhiseyes。
　　TheMelancoliawasnearlyfinished，andwasallornearlyallthathehadhopedshewouldbeDickjestedwithBessie，whoremindedhimthathewas’adrunkenbeast’；butthereproofdidnotmovehim。