midnights
They drove together in her pony-carriage ; they studied glowing summer sunsets , where fantastic clouds piled up wealth of gold and amber and purple and opaline splendors , and shot out arrowy , dazzling rays ; they paced the sands after it had all faded into tintless space , and delicate vapors of grayish green and vague violet rose from the crested waves that broke far out at sea , and trooped across like airy spirits ; they listened to the slow , regular rhythm that came marching from some weird country , with a grand crash at last , a sobbing crescendo , and an interval of silence that still pulsated on the dusky , odorous air , when the moaning billow was dead . They came so near to Nature , there were moments when they seemed empowered to wrest the shadowy secrets out of her bosom ; and yet they did not come near to each other . Ever this distance between , -- a man 's honor , and faith to his friend , Fred Lawrence thought , never allowing his secret soul to swerve . There were midnights when he softly paced the floor , his lips compressed , his brow ghostly white , and his hands clinched in the throe of a man 's deathless love . Then he thought he could not endure it , that he must stay away . But circumstances were stronger than will . Did God mean that this anguish should redeem that other old treachery , that his soul should be purified by its baptism of fire , a more worthy offering for his friend ?