We told each other what we thought life was, and what we
intended to make of it. It was then we had the idea of the cathedral."
She looked up earnestly at him.
"The cathedral? Haven't you forgotten?"
"No. I never forgot it."
"I thought you had. It is all such a long time ago. When I read about
you in the papers, and heard of all the wonders you had done, I was
sure you must have forgotten the chatter of your fifteen-year-old
playfellow. A man who spends his day as you did, in the saddle, and
the night in long, anxious watches, does not have time for such ideas
as we cultivated in those days."
"You are wrong, Lois. The idea is everything. It is the mainspring of
a man's life. If I did anything wonderful, as you say, it was for the
sake of the cathedral. There was, for instance, one night which I
remember very well. A whole tribe had risen. Half my men were down
with fever, and I felt--well, pretty bad. I was a bit delirious, I
fancy, and in delirium very often the foundations of a man's character
come uppermost. The cathedral was always in my mind. I saw your half,
and it was getting on splendidly. That goaded me. I felt I had to go
on, too. So I pulled myself together and went ahead. We pulled through
somehow, and I have always felt that in that night I laid the chief
stone."
The burning tears sprang to her eyes.
"So all that splendid work was done for the sake of our cathedral?"
"Partly, but not in the first place.
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