Then he returned to his room and took out Ida's letter, but his
hands trembled so that he could scarcely open it. As he read, they
trembled still more, and his face became almost ashen in its hue.
He was so appalled at what might have happened that his heart seemed
for a second to cease its pulsations.
"Great God!" he said, in a hoarse whisper--"what an escape I've
had!"
Hour after hour passed, but he sat motionless, staring at the abyss
into which he had almost stumbled.
The song of a bird without reminded him that morning was near. He
drew the curtain and saw that the dawn was reddening the sky.
"Thank God," he cried, fervently, "for the escape we both have
had!"
Then, in order to throw off the horrible nightmare that had oppressed
him, he stole quietly out into the fresh, cool, dewy air.
Chapter XL. Van Berg's Conclusions.
Van Berg knew that the word "discouragement" was in the dictionary,
and he supposed he understood its meaning, but Ida Mayhew's farewell
letter proved to him that he was mistaken. There are some things
we never learn until taught by the severe logic of events and
experience. There had been nothing in his own history or character
that enabled him to realize the dreary sinking of heart--the
paralyzing despondency of those who believe or fear that they have
been defeated and thwarted in life.
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