.. this is the
Meaning and Purpose of Life._
Peter read on through those pages where Lessingham, having found these
words in some old book, takes courage after his many misadventures and
starts again life--an old man, seventy years of age, but full of hope ...
and then there is his wonderful death in the Plague City, closing it all
like a Triumph.
The night had come down upon the house. Over the moor some twinkling light
broke the black darkness and his candle blew in the wind. Everything was
very still and as he clutched his book in his hand he knew that he was
frightened. His grandfather's words had filled him with terror. He felt not
only that his father was cruel and had been torturing his mother for many
years because he loved to hurt, but he felt also that it was something in
the blood, and that it would come upon him also, in later years, and that
he might not be able to beat it down. He could understand definite things
when they were tangible before his eyes but here was something that one
could not catch hold of, something....
After all, he was very young--But he remembered, with bated breath, times
at school when he had suddenly wanted to twist arms, to break things, to
hurt, when suddenly a fierce hot pleasure had come upon him, when a boy had
had his leg broken at football.
Dropping the book, shuddering, he fell upon his knees and prayed to what
God he knew not.
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