But it brought no solace to the mind of the weak, hard-hearted, and
guilty son. He had succeeded once more in temporarily soothing his
conscience with some narcotic of false comfort, and now slept the sleep
of the houseless, whose covering was narrower than he could wrap himself
in. Ah, those nights! Alas for the sleepless human soul out in the
eternal cold! But so heartless was James, that, if his mother had come
to him in the morning with her tear-dimmed eyes, he would never have
asked himself what could ail her; would never even have seen that she
was unhappy; least of all would have suspected himself the cause of her
red eyes and aching head, or that the best thing in him was that mental
uneasiness of which he was constantly aware. Thank God, there was no way
round the purifying fire! he could not escape it; he _must_ pass through
it!