Now the forbidding barrier had disappeared； and in its place had appeared the forbidden bondhe knew not how or when。 How could he？ Love； the Scarlet Spider； will in a night hang between two that have been apart a web too fine for either to see； but the strength of both will never avail to break it。
Very curiously it had befallen him furthermore that just at the time when all these changes were taking place around him and within him； she had brought him the book that she had pressed with emphasis upon his attention。 In the backwoods settlements of Pennsylvania where his maternal Scotch…Irish ancestors had settled and his own life been spent； very few volumes had fallen into his hands。 After coming to Kentucky not many more until of late： so that of the world's history he was still a stinted and hungry student。 When；therefore； she had given him Malory's 〃LeMorte D'Arthur；〃 it was the first time that the ideals of chivalry had ever flashed their glorious light upon him； for the first time the models of Christian manhood； on which western Europe nourished itself for centuries； displayed themselves to his imagination with the charm of story； he heard of Camelot； of the king； of that company of men who strove with each other in arms； but strove also with each other in grace of life and for the immortal mysteries of the spirit。 She had said that he should have read this book long before but that henceforth he would always need it even more than in his past： that here were some things he had looked for in the world and had never found； characters such as he had always wished to grapple to himself as his abiding comrades： that if he would love the best that it loved； hate what it hated； scorn what it scorned； it would help him in the pursuit of his own ideals to the end。 Of this and more he felt at once the truth； since of all earthly books known to him this contained the most heavenly revelation of what a man may be in manliness； in gentleness； and in goodness。 And as he read the nobler portions of the book； the nobler parts of his nature gave out their immediate response。 Hungrily he hurried to and fro across the harvest of those fertile pages； gathering of the white wheat of the spirit many a lustrous sheaf： the love of courage； the love of courtesy； the love of honour； the love of high aims and great actions； the love of the poor and the helpless； the love of a spotless name and a spotless life； the love of kindred； the love of friendship； the love of humility of spirit； the love of forgiveness； the love of beauty； the love of love； the love of God。 Surely； he said to himself； within the band of these virtues lay not only a man's noblest life； but the noblest life of the world。
While fondling these； he failed not to notice how the great book； as though it were a living mouth； spat its deathless scorn upon the things that he alsoin the imperfect measure of his powershad always hated： all cowardice of mind or body； all lying； all oppression； all unfaithfulness； all secret revenge and hypocrisy and double…dealing： the smut of the heart and mind。 But ah！ the other things besides these。
Sown among the white wheat of the spirit were the red tares of the flesh； and as he strode back and forth through the harvest； he found himself plucking these also with feverish vehemence。 There were things here that he had never seen in print： words that he had never even named to his secret consciousness； thoughts and desires that he had put away from his soul with many a struggle； many a prayer； stories of a kind that he had always declined to hear when told in companies of men： all here； spelled out； barefaced； without apology； without shame： the deposits of those old； old moral voices and standards long since buried deep under the ever rising level of the world's whitening holiness。 With utter guilt and shame he did not leave off till he had plucked the last red tare； and having plucked them； he had hugged the whole inflaming bundle against his bloodhis blood now flushed with youth； flushed with health； flushed with summer。
And finally； in the midst of all these things； perhaps coloured by them； there had come to him the first great awakening of his life in a love that was forbidden。
He upbraided himself the more bitterly for the influence of the book because it was she who had placed both the good and the evil in his hand with perfect confidence that he would lay hold on the one and remain unsoiled by the other。 She had remained spirit…proof herself against the influences that tormented him； out of her own purity she had judged him。 And yet； on the other hand； with that terrible candour of mind which he used either for or against himself as rigidly as for or against another person； he pleaded in his own behalf that she had made a mistake in overestimating his strength； in underestimating his temptations。 How should she know that for years his warfare had gone on direfully？ How realize that almost daily he had stood as at the dividing of two roads： the hard； narrow path ascending to the bleak white peaks of the spirit； the broad； sweet； downward vistas of the flesh？ How foresee； therefore； that the book would only help to rend him in twain with a mightier passion for each？
He had been back at the school a week now。 He had never dared go to see her。 Confront that luminous face with his darkened one？ Deal such a soul the wound of such dishonour？ He knew very well that the slightest word or glance of self…betrayal would bring on the immediate severance of her relationship with him： her wifehood might be her martyrdom； but it was martyrdom inviolate。 And yet he felt that if he were once with her； he could not be responsible for the consequences： he could foresee no degree of self…control that would keep him from telling her that he loved her。 He had been afraid to go。 But ah； how her image drew him day and night； day and night！ Slipping between him and every other being； every other desire。 Her voice kept calling to him to come to hera voice new； irresistible； that seemed to issue from the deeps of Summer； from the deeps of Life； from the deeps of Love； with its almighty justification。
This was his first Saturday。 To…day he had not even the school as a post of duty； to which he might lash himself for safety。 He had gone away from town in an opposite direction from her home； burying himself alone in the forest。 But between him and that summoning voice he could put no distance。 It sang out afresh to him from the inviting silence of the woods as well as from its innumerable voices。 It sang to him reproachfully from the pages of the old book： 〃In the lusty month of May lovers call again to their mind old gentleness and old service and many deeds that were forgotten by negligence：〃 he had never even gone to thank her for all her kindness to him during his illness！
Still he held out； wrestling with himself。 At last Love itself； the deceiver； snaringly pleaded that she alone could cure him of all this folly。 It had grown up wholly during his absence from her； no doubt by reason of this。 Many a time before be had gone to her about other troubles； and always he had found her carrying that steady light of right…mindedness which had scatteredhis darkness and revealed his better pathway。
He sprang up and set off sternly through the woods。 Goaded by love； he fancied that the presence of the forbidden woman would restore him to his old； blameless friendship。
XVIII
SHE was at work in the garden： he had long ago noted that she never idled。
He approached the fence and leaned on it as when they had last talked together； but his big Jacobin hat was pulled down over his eyes now。 He was afraid of his own voice； afraid of the sound of his knuckles； so that when at last he had rapped on the fence； he hoped that she had not heard； so that he could go away。
〃Knock louder；〃 she called out from under her bonnet。 〃I'm not sure that I heard you。〃
How sunny her voice was； how pure and sweet and remote from any suspicion of hovering harm！ It unshackled him as from a dreadful nightmare。
He broke into his old laughthe first time since he had stood there beforeand frankly took off his hat。
〃How did you know who it was？ You saw me coming！〃
〃Did I？ I don't like to contradict a stranger。〃
〃Am I a stranger？〃
〃What makes a stranger？ How long has it been since you were here？〃
〃A lifetime；〃 he replied gravely。 〃You are still living！ Will you walk into my parlour？〃
〃Will you meet me at the door？〃 It was so pleasant to seem gay； to say nothing； be nothing！ She came quietly over to the fence and gave him her hand with a little laugh。〃 〃You have holiday of Saturdays。 I have not； you see。 But I can take a recess： come in。 You are looking well！ Wounds agree with you。〃
He went trembling round to the gate； passed in； and they sat down on the bench。
〃How things grow in this soil；〃 she said pointing to the garden。 〃It has only been five or six weeks since you were here。 Do you remember？ I was planting the seed： now look at the plants！〃
〃I； too； was sowing that afternoon；〃 he replied musingly。 〃But my harvest ripened before yours； I have already reaped it。〃
〃What's that you are saying about me？〃 called out a hard； smooth voice from over the fence at their back。 〃I don't like to miss anything！〃
Amy had a piece of sewing； which she proceeded to spread upon the fence。
〃Will you show me about this； Aunt Jessica？〃
She greeted John without embarrassment or discernible remembrance of their last meeting。 Her fine blond hair was frowsy and a button was missing at the throat of her dress。 （Some women begin to let themselves go after marriage； some after the promise of marriage。） There were cake…crumbs also in one corner of her mouth。 〃These are some of my wedding clothes；〃 she said to him prettily。 〃Aren't they fine？〃
Mrs。 Falconer drew her attention for a moment and they began to measure the cloth over the back of her finger； counting the lengths under her breath。
Amy took a pin from the bosom of her dress and picked between her pearly teeth daintily。
〃Aunt Jessica；〃 she suddenly inquired with mischievous look at John； 〃before you were engaged to uncle； was there any one else you liked better？〃
With a terrible inward start