The telling of the Padre's story cost Buck a wakeful night. It was not that he had any doubts either of the truth of the story, or of his friend. He needed no evidence to convince him of either. Or rather, such was his nature that no evidence could have broken his faith and friendship. Strength and loyalty were the key-note of his whole life. To him the Padre was little less than a god, in whom nothing could shake his belief. He honored him above all men in the world, and, such as it was, his own life, his strength, his every nerve, were at his service. Moreover, it is probable that his loyalty would have been no whit the less had the man pleaded guilty to the crime he was accused of.
No, it was not the story he had listened to which kept him wakeful. It was not the rights or wrongs, or the significance of it, that inspired his unrest. It was something of a far more personal note.
It was the full awakening of a mind and heart to a true understanding of themselves. And the manner of his awakening had been little short of staggering. He loved, and his love had risen up before his eyes in a manner the full meaning of which he had only just realized. It was his friend who had brought about his awakening, his friend who had put into brief words that which had been to him nothing but a delicious dream.
The man's words rang through his brain the night long.
"Why? Why?" they said. "Because you love this little Joan, daughter of my greatest friend. Because I owe it to you--to her, to face my accusers and prove my innocence."
That brief passionate declaration had changed the whole outlook of his life. The old days, the old thoughts, the old unexpressed feelings and hazy ambitions had gone--swept away in one wave of absorbing passion. There was neither future nor past to him now. He lived in the thought of this woman's delightful presence, and beyond that he could see nothing.
Vaguely he knew that much must lay before him. The past, well, that was nothing. He understood that the drift of life's stream could no longer carry him along without his own effort at guidance. He knew that somewhere beyond this dream a great battle of Life lay waiting for his participation. He felt that henceforth he was one of those struggling units he had always regarded as outside his life. And all because of this wonderful sunlight of love which shone deep into the remotest cells of brain and heart. He felt strong for whatever lay before him. This perfect sunshine, so harmonious with every feeling, thrilled him with a virile longing to go out and proclaim his defiance against the waiting hordes in Life's eternal battle. No road could be so rough as to leave him shrinking, no fight so fierce that he was not confident of victory, no trouble so great that it could not be borne with perfect cheerfulness. As he had awakened to love so had he awakened to life, yearning and eager.