AT THE TIME APPOINTED

TWELFTH EDITION

 * * * * *

_By A. Maynard Barbour_

THAT MAINWARING AFFAIR

ILLUSTRATED BY E. PLAISTED ABBOTT

12mo. Cloth, $1. 50

"Possibly in a detective story the main object is to thrill. If so, 'That Mainwaring Affair' is all right. The thrill is there, fullmeasure, pressed down and running over. "--_Life_, New York

"The book that reminds one of Anna Katherine Green in her palmiestdays. .. . Keeps the reader on the alert, defies the efforts of those whoread backward, deserves the applause of all who like mystery. "--_TownTopics_, New York

"The tale is well told, and the intricacies of the plot so adroitlymanaged that it is impossible to foresee the correct solution of themysterious case until the final act of the tragedy. .. . Although vividlytold, the literary style is excellent and the story by no meanssensational, a fact that raises it above the level of the old-timedetective story, "--_Brooklyn Daily Eagle_

[Illustration: AS DARRELL DISMOUNTED, SHE CAME SWIFTLY TOWARDS HIM, EXTENDING HER HAND. Page 110]

AT THE TIME APPOINTED

BY

A. Maynard Barbour

AUTHOR OF "THAT MAINWARING AFFAIR, " ETC. 

WITH A FRONTISPIECE BYJ. N. MARCHAND

 "Yes, greater they who on life's battle-field, With unseen foes and fierce temptations fight" JOHN D. HIGINBOTHAM

GROSSET & DUNLAPPublishers New York

Copyright, 1903By J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANYPublished April, 1903

_Electrotyped and Printed by__J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U. S. A. _

TO JOHN D. HIGINBOTHAM

 "AS UNKNOWN, AND YET WELL KNOWN"

CONTENTS PAGE

_Chapter_ I--John Darrell 9

 " II--A Night's Work 25

 " III--"The Pines" 32

 " IV--Life? or Death? 43

 " V--John Britton 48

 " VI--Echoes from the Past 62

 " VII--At the Mines 68

 " VIII--"Until the Day Break" 81

 " IX--Two Portraits 86

 " X--The Communion of Two Souls 95

 " XI--Impending Trouble 104

 " XII--New Life in the Old Home 109

 " XIII--Mr. Underwood "Strikes" First 123

 " XIV--Drifting 134

 " XV--The Awakening 146

 " XVI--The Aftermath 166

 " XVII--"She knows her Father's Will is Law" 180

 " XVIII--On the "Divide" 194

 " XIX--The Return to Camp Bird 206

 " XX--Forging the Fetters 216

 " XXI--Two Crimes by the Same Hand 224

 " XXII--The Fetters Broken 237

 " XXIII--The Mask Lifted 247

 " XXIV--Foreshadowings 254

 " XXV--The "Hermitage" 262

 " XXVI--John Britton's Story 269

 " XXVII--The Rending of the Veil 274

 " XXVIII--"As a Dream when One Awaketh" 278

 " XXIX--John Darrell's Story 285

 " XXX--After Many Years 295

 " XXXI--An Eastern Home 300

 " XXXII--Marion Holmes 308

 " XXXIII--Into the Fulness of Life 316

 " XXXIV--A Warning 321

 " XXXV--A Fiend at Bay 330

 " XXXVI--Señora Martinez 337

 " XXXVII--The Identification 343

 " XXXVIII--Within the "Pocket" 352

 " XXXIV--At the Time Appointed 360

AT THE TIME APPOINTED

_Chapter I_

JOHN DARRELL

Upon a small station on one of the transcontinental lines winding amongthe mountains far above the level of the sea, the burning rays of thenoonday sun fell so fiercely that the few buildings seemed ready toignite from the intense heat. A season of unusual drought had added tothe natural desolation of the scene. Mountains and foot-hills wereblackened by smouldering fires among the timber, while a dense pall ofsmoke entirely hid the distant ranges from view. Patches of sage-brushand bunch grass, burned sere and brown, alternated with barren stretchesof sand from which piles of rubble rose here and there, telling ofworked-out and abandoned mines. Occasionally a current of air stolenoiselessly down from the canyon above, but its breath scorched thewithered vegetation like the blast from a furnace. Not a sound broke thestillness; life itself seemed temporarily suspended, while the very airpulsated and vibrated with the heat, rising in thin, quivering columns. 

Suddenly the silence was broken by the rapid approach of the stage froma distant mining camp, rattling noisily down the street, followed by aslight stir within the apparently deserted station. Whirling atbreakneck pace around a sharp turn, it stopped precipitately, amid ablinding cloud of dust, to deposit its passengers at the depot. 

One of these, a young man of about five-and-twenty, arose with somedifficulty from the cramped position which for seven weary hours he hadbeen forced to maintain, and, with sundry stretchings and shakings ofhis superb form, seemed at last to pull himself together. Having securedhis belongings from out the pile of miscellaneous luggage thrown fromthe stage upon the platform, he advanced towards the slouching figure ofa man just emerging from the baggage-room, his hands thrust deep in histrousers pockets, his mouth stretched in a prodigious yawn, the arrivalof the stage having evidently awakened him from his siesta. 

"How's the west-bound--on time?" queried the young man rather shortly, but despite the curtness of his accents there was a musical quality inthe ringing tones. 

Before the cavernous jaws could close sufficiently for reply, twodistant whistles sounded almost simultaneously. 

"That's her, " drawled the man, with a backward jerk of his thumb overhis shoulder in the direction of the sound; "she's at Blind Man's Pass;be here in about fifteen minutes. "

The young man turned and sauntered to the rear end of the platform, where he paused for a few moments; then, unconscious of the scrutiny ofhis fellow-passengers, he began silently pacing up and down, being in nomood for conversation with any one. Every bone in his body ached and hishead throbbed with a dull pain, but these physical discomforts, which heattributed to his long and wearisome stage ride, caused him lessannoyance than did the fact that he had lost several days' time, besidessubjecting himself to numerous inconveniences and hardships, on what henow denominated a "fool's errand. "

An expert mineralogist and metallurgist, he had been commissioned by alarge syndicate of eastern capitalists to come west, primarily toexamine a certain mine recently offered for sale, and secondarily tosecure any other valuable mining properties which might happen to be onthe market. A promoter, whose acquaintance he had formed soon afterleaving St. Paul, had poured into his ear such fabulous tales of a mineof untold wealth which needed but the expenditure of a few thousands toplace it upon a dividend-paying basis, that, after making due allowancefor optimism and exaggeration, he had thought it might be worth hiswhile to stop off and investigate. The result of the investigation hadbeen anything but satisfactory for either the promoter or the expert. 

He was the more annoyed at the loss of time because of a telegram handedhim just before his departure from St. Paul, which he now drew forth, and which read as follows:

 "Parkinson, expert for M. And M. On trail. Knows you as our representative, but only by name. Lie low and block him if possible. "BARNARD. "

He well understood the import of the message. The "M. And M. " stood fora rival syndicate of enormous wealth, and the fact that its expert wasalso on his way west promised lively competition in the purchase of thefamous Ajax mine. 

"Five days, " he soliloquized, glancing at the date of the message, which he now tore into bits, together with two or three letters oflittle importance. "I have lost my start and am now likely to meet thisParkinson at any stage of the game. However, he has never heard of JohnDarrell, and that name will answer my purpose as well as any amongstrangers. I'll notify Barnard when I reach Ophir. "

His plans for the circumvention of Parkinson were now temporarily cutshort by the appearance of the "double-header" rounding a curve andrapidly approaching--a welcome sight, for the heat and blinding glare oflight were becoming intolerable. 

Only for a moment the ponderous engines paused, panting and quiveringlike two living, sentient monsters; the next, with heavy, laboredbreath, as though summoning all their energies for the task before them, they were slowly ascending the steadily increasing grade, moment bymoment with accelerated speed plunging into the very heart of themountains, bearing John Darrell, as he was to be henceforth known, to adestiny of which he had little thought, but which he himself had, unconsciously, helped to weave. 

An hour later, on returning to the sleeper after an unsuccessful attemptat dining, Darrell sank into his seat, and, leaning wearily back, watched with half-closed eyes the rapidly changing scenes through whichhe was passing, for the time utterly oblivious to his surroundings. Gigantic rocks, grotesque in form and color, flashed past; toweringpeaks loomed suddenly before him, advancing, receding, disappearing, andreappearing with the swift windings and doublings of the train; massivewalls of granite pressed close and closer, seeming for one instant athreatening, impenetrable barrier, the next, opening to reveal glimpsesof distant billowy ranges, their summits white with perpetual snow. Thetrain had now reached a higher altitude, and breezes redolent of pineand fir fanned his throbbing brow, their fragrance thronging his mindwith memories of other and far-distant scenes, until gradually the boldoutlines of cliff and crag grew dim, and in their place appeared a cool, dark forest through which flecks of golden sunlight sifted down upon themoss-grown, flower-strewn earth; a stream singing beneath the pines, then rippling onward through meadows of waving green; a wide-spreadinghouse of colonial build half hidden by giant trees and clingingrose-vines, and, framed among the roses, a face, strong, tender, sweet, crowned with silvered hair--one of the few which sorrow makesbeautiful--which came nearer and nearer, bending over him with amother's blessing; and then he slept. 

The face of the sleeper, with its clear-cut, well-moulded features, formed a pleasing study, reminding one of a bit of unfinished carving, the strong, bold lines of which reveal the noble design of thesculptor--the thing of wondrous beauty yet to be--but which still lacksthe finer strokes, the final touch requisite to bring it to perfection. Strength of character was indicated there; an indomitable will thatwould bend the most adverse conditions to serve its own masterfulpurpose and make of obstacles the paving-stones to success; a mindgifted with keen perceptive faculties, but which hitherto had dealtmostly with externals and knew little of itself or of its own powers. Young, with splendid health and superabundant vitality, there had beenlittle opportunity for introspection or for the play of the finer, subtler faculties; and of the whole gamut of susceptibilities, rangingfrom exquisite suffering to ecstatic joy, few had been even awakened. His was a nature capable of producing the divinest harmonies or thewildest discords, according to the hand that swept the strings as yetuntouched. 

For more than an hour Darrell slept. He was awakened by the murmur ofvoices near him, confused at first, but growing more distinct as hegradually recalled his surroundings, until, catching the name of"Parkinson, " he was instantly on the alert. 

"Yes, " a pleasant voice was saying, "I understand the Ajax is for saleif the owners can get their price, but they don't want less than a coldmillion for it, and it's my opinion they'll find buyers rather scarce atthat figure when it comes to a show down. "

"Well, I don't know; that depends, " was the reply. "The price won'tstand in the way with my people, if the mine is all right. They can handover a million--or two, for that matter--as easily as a thousand, if theproperty is what they want, but they've got to know what they're buying. That's what I'm out here for. "

Taking a quiet survey of the situation, Darrell found that the sectionopposite his own--which, upon his return from the dining-car, hadcontained only a motley collection of coats and grips--was now occupiedby a party of three, two of whom were engaged in animated conversation. One of the speakers, who sat facing Darrell, was a young man of abouttwo-and-twenty, whose self-assurance and assumption of worldly wisdom, combined with a boyish impetuosity, he found vastly amusing, while atthe same time his frank, ingenuous eyes and winning smile of genuinefriendliness, revealing a nature as unsuspecting and confiding as achild's, appealed to him strangely and drew him irresistibly towards theyoung stranger. The other speaker, whom Darrell surmised to beParkinson, was considerably older and was seated facing the youngerman, hence his back was towards Darrell; while the third member of theparty, and by far the eldest, of whose face Darrell had a perfectprofile view, although saying little, seemed an interested listener. 

The man whom Darrell supposed to be Parkinson inquired the quickest wayof reaching the Ajax mine. 

"Well, you see it's this way, " replied the young fellow. "The Ajax is ona spur that runs out from the main line at Ophir, and the train onlyruns between there and Ophir twice a week, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Let's see, this is Wednesday; we'll get into Ophir to-morrow, and you'llhave to wait over until Saturday, unless you hire a rig to take you outthere, and that's pretty expensive and an awfully rough jaunt besides. "

"I don't mind the expense, " retorted the other, "but I don't know as Icare to go on any jaunts over your mountain roads when there's nospecial necessity for it; I can get exercise enough without that. "

"I tell you what, Mr. Parkinson, " said the young fellow, cordially, "youand your friend here, Mr. Hunter, "--Darrell started at the mention ofthe latter name, --"had better wait over till Saturday, and in the meantime I'll take you people out to Camp Bird, as we call it, and show youthe Bird Mine; that's our mine, you know, and I tell you she is a'bird, ' and no mistake. You'll be interested in looking her over, thoughI'll tell you beforehand she's not for sale. "

"Do I understand that you have an interest in this remarkable mine, Mr. Whitcomb?" Parkinson inquired, a tinge of amusement in his tone. 

"Not in the way you mean; that is, not yet, though there's no tellinghow soon I may have if things turn out as I hope, " and the boyish cheekflushed slightly. "But I know what I'm talking about all the same. My uncle, D. K. Underwood, is a practical mining man of nearly thirtyyears' experience, and what he doesn't know about mines and mining isn'tworth knowing. He's interested in a dozen or so of the best mines in theState, but I don't think he would exchange his half-interest in the BirdMine for all his other holdings put together. She's a comparatively newmine yet, but taking into consideration her depth and the amount ofdevelopment, she's the best-paying mine in the State. Here, let me showyou something. " And hastily pulling a note-book from his pocket, he tooktherefrom a narrow slip of paper which he handed to the expert. 

"There's a statement, " he continued, "made out by the United StatesAssay Office, back here at Galena, that will show you the returns from asixty days' run at the Bird mill; what do you think of that?"

Parkinson's face was still invisible to Darrell, but the latter heard along, low whistle of surprise. Young Whitcomb looked jubilant. 

"They say figures won't lie, " he added, in tones of boyish enthusiasm, "but if you don't believe those figures, I've got the cash right here toshow for it, " accompanying the words with a significant gesture. 

Parkinson handed the slip to Hunter, then leaned back in his seat, giving Darrell a view of his profile. 

"Sixty days!" he said, musingly. "Seventy-five thousand dollars! I thinkI would like to take a look at the Bird Mine! I think I would like tomake Mr. Underwood's acquaintance!"

Whitcomb laughed exultingly. "I'll give you an opportunity to do both ifyou'll stop over, " he said; "and don't you forget that my uncle can giveyou some pointers on the Ajax, for he knows every mine in the State. "

Mr. Hunter here handed the slip of paper to Whitcomb. "Young man, " hesaid, with some severity, gazing fixedly at Whitcomb through hiseye-glasses, "do you mean to say that you are travelling withseventy-five thousand dollars on your person?"

"Certainly, sir, " Whitcomb replied, evidently enjoying the situation. 

Mr. Hunter shook his head. "Very imprudent!" he commented. "You arerunning a tremendous risk. I wonder that your uncle would permit it!"

"Oh, that's all right, " said Whitcomb, confidently. "Uncle usually comesdown himself with the shipments of bullion, and he generally banks themost of his money there at Galena, but he couldn't very well leave thistime, so he sent me, and as he was going to use considerable moneypaying for a lot of improvements we've put in and paying off the men, hetold me to bring back the cash. There's not much danger anyway; the Westisn't as wild nowadays as it used to be. "

Handing a second bit of paper to Parkinson, he added: "There's somethingelse that will interest you; the results of some assays made by theUnited States Assay Office on some samples taken at random from a newstrike we made last week. I'll show you some of the samples, too. "

"Great Scott!" ejaculated Parkinson, running his eye over the returns. "You seem to have a mine there, all right!"

"Sure thing! You'll think so when you see it, " Whitcomb answered, fumbling in a grip at his feet. 

At sight of the specimens of ore which he produced a moment later, histwo companions became nearly as enthusiastic as himself. Leaning eagerlyforward, they began an inspection of the samples, commenting on theirrespective values, while Whitcomb, unfolding a tracing of the workingsof the mine, explained the locality from which each piece was taken, itsdepth from the surface, the width and dip of the vein, and other itemsof interest. 

Darrell, who was carefully refraining from betraying any specialinterest in the party across the aisle, soon became aware that he wasnot the only interested listener to the conversation. In the sectiondirectly in front of the one occupied by Whitcomb and his companions aman was seated, apparently engrossed in a newspaper, but Darrell, whohad a three-quarter view of his face, soon observed that he was notreading, but listening intently to the conversation of the men seatedbehind him, and particularly to young Whitcomb's share in it. Uponhearing the latter's statement that he had with him the cash returns forthe shipment of bullion, Darrell saw the muscles of his face suddenlygrow tense and rigid, while his hands involuntarily tightened their holdupon the paper. He grew uncomfortable under Darrell's scrutiny, movedrestlessly once or twice, then turning, looked directly into thepiercing dark eyes fixed upon him. His own eyes, which were small andshifting, instantly dropped, while the dark blood mounted angrily to hisforehead. A few moments later, he changed his position so that Darrellcould not see his face, but the latter determined to watch him and togive Whitcomb a word of warning at the earliest opportunity. 

"Well, " said Parkinson, leaning back in his seat after examining theores and listening to Whitcomb's outline of their plans for the futuredevelopment of the mine, "it seems to me, young man, you have quite aknowledge of mines and mining yourself. "

Whitcomb flushed with pleasure. "I ought to, " he said; "there isn't aman in this western country that understands the business better or hasgot it down any finer than my uncle. He may not be able to talk soglibly or use such high-sounding names for things as you fellows, but hecan come pretty near telling whether a mine will pay for the handling, and if it has any value he generally knows how to go to work to findit. "

"Well, that's about the 'gist' of the whole business, " said Parkinson;he added: "You say he can give me some 'tips' on the Ajax?"

"He can if he chooses to, " laughed Whitcomb, "but you'd better not lethim know that I said so. He'll be more likely to give you information ifyou ask him offhand. "

"Well, " continued Parkinson, "when we get to Ophir, I'll know whether ornot I can stop over. I've heard there's another fellow out here on thisAjax business; whether he's ahead of me I don't know. I'll makeinquiries when we reach Ophir, and if he hasn't come on the scene yet Ican afford to lay off; if he has, I must lose no time in getting out tothe mine. " Parkinson glanced at Hunter, who nodded almost imperceptibly. 

"I guess that's the best arrangement we can make at present, " saidParkinson, rising from his seat. "Come and have a smoke with us, Mr. Whitcomb?"

Whitcomb declined the invitation, and, after Hunter and Parkinson hadleft, sat idly turning over the specimens of ore, until, happening tocatch Darrell's eye, he inquired, pleasantly, --

"Are you interested in this sort of thing?"

"In a way, yes, " said Darrell, crossing over and taking the seat vacatedby Parkinson. "I'm not what you call a mining man; that is, I've neverowned or operated a mine, but I take a great interest in examining thedifferent ores and always try to get as much information regarding themas possible. "

Whitcomb at once launched forth enthusiastically upon a description ofthe various samples. Darrell, while careful not to show too greatfamiliarity with the subject, or too thorough a knowledge of ores ingeneral, yet was so keenly appreciative of their remarkable richness andbeauty that he soon won the boy's heart. 

"Say!" he exclaimed, "you had better stop off at Ophir with us; we wouldmake a mining man of you in less than no time! By the way, how far westare you travelling?"

"Ophir is my destination at present, though it is uncertain how long Iremain there. "

"Long enough, that we'll get well acquainted, I hope. Going into anyparticular line of business?"

"No, only looking the country over, for the present. "

To divert the conversation from himself, Darrell, by a judiciousquestion or two, led Whitcomb to speak of the expert. 

"Parkinson?" he said with a merry laugh. "Oh, yes, he's one of thoseeastern know-it-alls who come out here occasionally to give us fellows afew points on mines. They're all right, of course, for the men whoemploy them, who want to invest their money and wouldn't know a mine ifthey saw one; but when they undertake to air their knowledge among theseold fellows who have spent a lifetime in the business, why, they'relikely to get left, that's all. Now, this Parkinson seems to be a prettyfair sort of man compared with some of them, but between you and me, I'dwager my last dollar that they'll lose him on that Ajax mine!"

"Why, what's the matter with the Ajax?" Darrell inquired, indifferently. 

"Well, as you're not interested in any way, I'm not telling tales out ofschool. The Ajax has been a bonanza in its day, but within the last yearor so the bottom has dropped out of the whole thing, and that's thereason the owners are anxious to sell. "

"I hear they ask a pretty good price for the mine. "

"Yes, they're trading on her reputation, but that's all past. The mineis practically worked out. They've made a few good strikes lately, sothat there is some good ore in sight, and this is their chance to sell, but there are no indications of any permanence. One of our own men wasover there a while ago, and he said there wasn't enough ore in the mineto keep their mill running full force for more than six months. "

"Is this Hunter an expert also?"

"Oh, no; Parkinson said he was a friend of his, just taking the trip forhis health. "

Darrell smiled quietly, knowing Hunter to be a member of the syndicateemploying Parkinson, but kept his knowledge to himself. 

A little later, when Darrell and Whitcomb left together for thedining-car, quite a friendship had sprung up between them. There wasthat mutual attraction often observed between two natures utterlydiverse. Whitcomb was unaccountably drawn towards the dark-eyed, courteous, but rather reticent stranger, while his own frankfriendliness and childlike confidence awoke in Darrell's nature acorrelative tenderness and affection which he never would have believedhimself capable of feeling towards one of his own sex. 

"I don't know what is the matter with me, " said Darrell, as he seatedhimself at a table, facing Whitcomb. "My head seems to have asmall-sized stamp-mill inside of it; every bone in my body aches, and myjoints feel as though they were being pulled apart. "

Whitcomb looked up quickly. "Are you just from the East, or have youbeen out here any time?"

"I stopped for a few days, back here a ways. "

"In the mountain country?"

"Yes. "

"By George! I believe you've got the mountain fever; there's an awfullot of it round here this season, and this is just the worst time ofyear for an easterner to come out here. But we'll look after you when weget to Ophir, and bring you round all right. "

"Much obliged, but I think I'll be all right after a night's rest, "Darrell replied, inwardly resolved, upon reaching Ophir, to push on tothe Ajax as quickly as possible, though his ardor was considerablycooled by Whitcomb's report. 

When they left the dining-car the train was stopping at a small station, and for a few moments the young men strolled up and down the platform. Adense, bluish-gray haze hung low over the country, rendering theoutlines of even the nearest objects obscure and dim; the western skywas like burnished copper, and the sun, poised a little above thehorizon, looked like a ball of glowing fire. 

Just as the train was about to start Darrell saw the man whose peculiaractions he had noticed earlier, leave the telegraph office and jumphastily aboard. Calling Whitcomb's attention as he passed them, herelated his observations of the afternoon and cautioned him against theman. For an instant Whitcomb looked serious. 

"I suppose it was rather indiscreet in me to talk as I did, " he said, "but it can't be helped now. However, I guess it's all right, but I'mobliged to you all the same. "

They passed into the smoker, where Darrell was introduced to Hunter andParkinson. In a short time, however, he found himself suffering fromnausea and growing faint and dizzy. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "you will have to excuse me. I'm rather off mybase this evening, and I find that smoking isn't doing me any good. "

As he rose young Whitcomb sprang instantly to his feet; throwing awayhis cigar and linking his arm within Darrell's, he insisted uponaccompanying him to the sleeper, notwithstanding his protests. 

"Good-night, Parkinson, " he called, cheerily; "see you in the morning!"

He accompanied Darrell to his section; then dropped familiarly into theseat beside him, throwing one arm affectionately over Darrell'sshoulder, and during the next hour, while the sunset glow faded and theevening shadows deepened, he confided to this acquaintance of only a fewhours the outlines of his past life and much regarding his hopes andplans for the future. He spoke of his orphaned boyhood; of the uncle whohad given him a home in his family and initiated him into his ownbusiness methods; of his hope of being admitted at no distant day intopartnership with his uncle and becoming a shareholder in the wonderfulBird Mine. 

"But that isn't all I am looking forward to, " he said, in conclusion, his boyish tones growing strangely deep and tender. "My fondest hope ofall I hardly dare admit even to myself, and I don't know why I amspeaking of it to you, except that I already like you and trust you as Inever did any other man; but you will understand what I mean when yousee my cousin, Kate Underwood. "

He paused, but his silence was more eloquent to Darrell than words; thelatter grasped his hand warmly in token that he understood. 

"I wish you all that you hope for, " he said. 

A few moments later Whitcomb spoke with his usual impetuosity. "What amI thinking of, keeping you up in this way when you are sick and deadtired! You had better turn in and get all the rest you can, and when wereach Ophir to-morrow, just remember, my dear fellow, that no hotels'go. ' You'll go directly home with me, where you'll find yourself insuch good hands you'll think sure you're in your own home, and we'llsoon have you all right. "

For hours Darrell tossed wearily, unable to sleep. His head throbbedwildly, the racking pain throughout his frame increased, while a ragingfire seemed creeping through his veins. Not until long past midnight didhe fall into a fitful sleep. Strange fancies surged through his feveredbrain, torturing him with their endless repetition, their seemingreality. Suddenly he awoke, bewildered, exhausted, oppressed by a vaguesense of impending evil. 

_Chapter II_

A NIGHT'S WORK

For a few seconds Darrell tried vainly to recall what had awakened him. Low, confused sounds occasionally reached his ears, but they seemed partof his own troubled dreams. The heat was intolerable; he raised himselfto the open window that he might get a breath of cooler air; his headwhirled, but the half-sitting posture seemed to clear his brain, and herecalled his surroundings. At once he became conscious that the trainwas not in motion, yet no sound of trainmen's voices came through theopen window; all was dead silence, and the vague, haunting sense ofimpending danger quickened. 

Suddenly he heard a muttered oath in one of the sections, followed by anorder, low, but peremptory, --

"No noise! Hand over, and be quick about it!"

Instantly Darrell comprehended the situation. Peering cautiously betweenthe curtains, he saw, at the forward end of the sleeper, a masked manwith a revolver in each hand, while the mirror behind him revealedanother figure at the rear, masked and armed in like manner. He heardanother order; the man was doing his work swiftly. He thought at once ofyoung Whitcomb, but no sound came from the opposite section, and he sankquietly back upon his pillow. 

A moment later the curtains were quickly thrust aside, the muzzle of arevolver confronted Darrell, and the same low voice demanded, --

"Hand out your valuables!"

A man of medium height, wearing a mask and full beard, stood over him. Darrell quietly handed over his watch and purse, noting as he did so theman's hands, white, well formed, well kept. He half expected a furtherdemand, as the purse contained only a few small bills and some change, the bulk of his money being secreted about the mattress, as was hishabit; but the man turned with peculiar abruptness to the oppositesection, as one who had a definite object in view and was in haste toaccomplish it. Darrell, his faculties alert, observed that the sectionin front of Whitcomb's was empty; he recalled the actions of itsoccupant on the preceding afternoon, his business later at the telegraphoffice, and the whole scheme flashed vividly before his mind. The manhad been a spy sent out by the band now holding the train, andWhitcomb's money was without doubt the particular object of the hold-up. 

Whitcomb was asleep at the farther side of his berth. Leaning slightlytowards him, the man shook him, and his first words confirmed Darrell'sintuitions, --

"Hand over that money, young man, and no fuss about it, either!"

Whitcomb, instantly awake, gazed at the masked face without a word ormovement. Darrell, powerless to aid his friend, watched intently, dreading some rash act on his part to which his impetuous nature mightprompt him. 

Again he heard the low tones, this time a note of danger in them, --

"No fooling! Hand that money over, lively!"

With a spring, as sudden and noiseless as a panther's, Whitcomb grappledwith the man, knocking the revolver from his hand upon the bed. Aquick, desperate, silent struggle followed. Whitcomb suddenly reachedfor the revolver; as he did so Darrell saw a flash of steel in the dimlight, and the next instant his friend sank, limp and motionless, uponthe bed. 

"Fool!" he heard the man mutter, with an oath. 

An involuntary groan escaped from Darrell's lips. Slight as was thesound, the man heard it and turned, facing him; the latter was screenedby the curtains, and the man, seeing no one, returned to his work, butthat brief glance had revealed enough to Darrell that he knew he couldhenceforth identify the murderer among a thousand. In the struggle themask had been partially pushed aside, exposing a portion of the man'sface. A scar of peculiar shape showed white against the olive skin, close to the curling black hair. But to Darrell the pre-eminentlydistinguishing characteristic of that face was the eyes. Of the mostperfect steel blue he had ever seen, they seemed, as they turned uponhim in that intense glance, to glint and scintillate like the points oftwo rapiers in a brilliant sword play, while their look of concentratedfury and malignity, more demon-like than human, was stamped ineffaceablyupon his brain. 

Having secured as much as he could find of the money, the murderer lefthastily and silently, and a few moments later the guards, after awarning to the passengers not to leave their berths, took theirdeparture. 

Having partially dressed, Darrell at once sprang across the aisle andtook Whitcomb's limp form in his arms. His heart still beat faintly, buthe was unconscious and bleeding profusely. All had been done so silentlyand swiftly that no one outside of Darrell dreamed of murder, and soonthe enforced silence began to be broken by hurried questions and angryexclamations. A man cursed over the loss of his money and a woman sobbedhysterically. Suddenly, Darrell's incisive tones rang through thesleeper. 

"For God's sake, see if there is a surgeon aboard! Here is a manstabbed, dying; don't stop to talk of money when a life is at stake!"

Instantly all thought of personal loss was for the time forgotten, andhalf a dozen men responded to Darrell's appeal. When it became knownthroughout the train what had occurred, the greatest excitementfollowed. Train officials, hurrying back and forth, stopped, hushed andhorror-stricken, beside the section where Darrell sat holding Whitcombin his arms. Passengers from the other coaches crowded in, eager tooffer assistance that was of no avail. A physician was found and camequickly to the scene, who, after a brief examination, silently shook hishead, and Darrell, watching the weakening pulse and shortening gasps, needed no words to tell him that the young life was ebbing fast. 

Just as the faint respirations had become almost imperceptible, Whitcombopened his eyes, looking straight into Darrell's eyes with eagerintensity, his face lighted with the winning smile which Darrell hadalready learned to love. His lips moved; Darrell bent his head stilllower to listen. 

"Kate, --you will see her, " he whispered. "Tell her----" but the sentencewas never finished. 

Deftly and gently as a woman Darrell did the little which remained to bedone for his young friend, closing the eyes in which the love-lightkindled by his dying words still lingered, smoothing the dishevelledgolden hair, wondering within himself at his own unwonted tenderness. 

"An awful pity for a bright young life to go out like that!" said avoice at his side, and, turning, he saw Parkinson. 

"How did it happen?" the latter inquired, recognizing Darrell for thefirst time in the dim light. 

Briefly Darrell gave the main facts as he had witnessed them, sayingnothing, however, of his having seen the face of the murderer. 

"Too bad!" said Parkinson. "He ought never to have made a bluff of thatsort; there were too many odds against him. "

"He was impulsive and acted on the spur of the moment, " Darrell replied;adding, in lower tones, "the mistake was in giving one so young andinexperienced a commission involving so much responsibility and danger. "

"You knew of the money, then? Yes, that was bad business for him, poorfellow! I wonder, by the way, if it was all taken. "

At Darrell's suggestion a thorough search was made, which resulted inthe finding of a package containing fifteen thousand dollars which thethief in his haste had evidently overlooked. This, it was agreed, shouldbe placed in Darrell's keeping until the arrival of the train at Ophir. 

Gradually the crowd dispersed, most of the passengers returning to theirberths. Darrell, knowing that sleep for himself was out of the question, sought an empty section in another part of the car, and, seatinghimself, bowed his head upon his hands. The veins in his temples seemednear bursting and his usually strong nerves quivered from the shock hehad undergone, but of this he was scarcely conscious. His mind, abnormally active, for the time held his physical sufferings inabeyance. He was living over again the events of the past fewhours--events which had awakened within him susceptibilities he had notknown he possessed, which had struck a new chord in his being whosevibrations thrilled him with strange, undefinable pain. As he recalledWhitcomb's affectionate familiarity, he seemed to hear again the low, musical cadences of the boyish tones, to see the sunny radiance of hissmile, to feel the irresistible magnetism of his presence, and it seemedas though something inexpressibly sweet, of whose sweetness he hadbarely tasted, had suddenly dropped out of his life. 

His heart grew sick with bitter sorrow as he recalled the look ofmingled appeal and trust which shot from Whitcomb's eyes into his own ashis young life, so full of hope, of ambition, of love, was passingthrough the dim portals of an unknown world. Oh, the pity of it! thathe, an acquaintance of but a few hours, should have been the only one towhom those eyes could turn for their last message of earthly love andsympathy; and oh, the impotency of any and all human love then!

Never before had Darrell been brought so near the unseen, theunknown, --always surrounding us, but of which few of us areconscious, --and for hours he sat motionless, lost in thought, grapplingwith problems hitherto unthought of, but which now perplexed and baffledhim at every turn. 

At last, with a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes. The gray twilight ofdawn was slowly creeping down from the mountain-tops, dispelling theshadows; and the light of a new faith, streaming downward

 "From the beautiful, eternal hills Of God's unbeginning past, "

was banishing the doubts which had assailed him. 

That night had brought to him a revelation of the awful solitude of ahuman soul, standing alone on the threshold of two worlds; but it hadalso revealed to him the Love--Infinite, Divine--that meets the soulwhen human love and sympathy are no longer of avail. 

_Chapter III_

"THE PINES"

As the day advanced Darrell grew gradually but steadily worse. After theexcitement of the night had passed a reaction set in; he felt utterlyexhausted and miserable, the pain returned with redoubled violence, andthe fever increased perceptibly from hour to hour. 

He was keenly observant of those about him, and he could not but notehow soon the tragedy of the preceding night seemed forgotten. Somebemoaned the loss of money or valuables; a few, more fortunate, relatedhow they had outwitted the robbers and escaped with trivial loss, butonly an occasional careless word of pity was heard for the youngstranger who had met so sad a fate. So quickly and completely does onehuman atom sink out of sight! It is like the dropping of a pebble in thesea: a momentary ripple, that is all!

About noon Parkinson, who had sought to while away the tedium of thejourney by an interview with Darrell, became somewhat alarmed at thelatter's condition and went in search of a physician. He returned withthe one who had been summoned to Whitcomb's aid. He was an easternpractitioner, and, unfortunately for Darrell, was not so familiar withthe peculiar symptoms in his case as a western physician would havebeen. 

"He has a high fever, " he remarked to Parkinson a little later, as heseated himself beside Darrell to watch the effect of the remediesadministered, "but I do not apprehend any danger. I have given himsomething to abate the fever and induce sleep. If necessary, I willwrite out a prescription which he can have filled on his arrival atOphir, but I think in a few days he will be all right. "

They were now approaching the continental divide, the scenery moment bymoment growing in sublimity and grandeur. Darrell soon sank into asleep, light and broken at first, but which grew deeper and heavier. Formore than an hour he slept, unconscious that the rugged scenes throughwhich he was then passing were to become part of his future life; thateach cliff and crag and mountain-peak was to be to him an open book, whose secrets would leave their indelible impress upon his heart andbrain, revealing to him the breadth and length, the depth and height oflife, moulding his soul anew into nobler, more symmetrical proportions. 

At last the rocks suddenly parted, like sentinels making way for theapproaching train, disclosing a broad, sunlit plateau, from which rose, in gracefully rounded contours, a pine-covered mountain, about whosebase nestled the little city of Ophir, while in the background stretchedthe majestic range of the great divide. 

A crowd could be seen congregated about the depot, for tidings of thenight's tragedy had preceded the train by several hours, and Whitcombfrom his early boyhood had been a universal favorite in Ophir, while hisuncle was one of its wealthiest, most influential citizens. 

As the train slackened speed Parkinson, with a few words to thephysician, hastily left to make arrangements for transportation forhimself, Hunter, and Darrell to a hotel. Amid the noise and confusionwhich ensued for the next ten minutes Darrell slept heavily, till, roused by a gentle shake, he awoke to find the physician bending overhim and heard voices approaching down the now nearly desertedsleeping-car. 

"Yes, " said a heavy voice, speaking rapidly, "the conductor wireddetails; he said this young man did everything for the boy that could bedone, and stayed by him to the end. "

"He did; he stood by him like a brother, " Parkinson's voice replied. 

"And he is sick, you say? Well, he won't want for anything within mypower to do for him, that's all!"

Parkinson stopped at Darrell's side. "Mr. Darrell, " he said, "this isMr. Underwood, Whitcomb's uncle, you know; Mr. Underwood, Mr. Darrell. "

Darrell rose a little unsteadily; the two men grasped hands and for aninstant neither spoke. Darrell saw before him a tall, powerfully builtman, approaching fifty, whose somewhat bronzed face, shrewd, stern, andunreadable, was lighted by a pair of blue eyes which once had resembledWhitcomb's. With a swift, penetrating glance the elder man lookedsearchingly into the face of the younger. 

"True as steel, with a heart of gold!" was his mental comment; then hespoke abruptly, and his voice sounded brusque though his face wasworking with emotion. 

"Mr. Darrell, my carriage is waiting for you outside. You will go homewith me, unless, " he added, inquiringly, "you are expecting to meetfriends or acquaintances?"

"No, Mr. Underwood, " Darrell replied, "I am a stranger here, but, muchas I appreciate your kindness, I could not think of intruding upon yourhome at such a time as this. "

"Porter, " said Mr. Underwood, with the air of one accustomed to command, "take this gentleman's luggage outside, and tell them out there that itis to go to 'The Pines;' my men are there and they will look after it;"then, turning to Darrell, he continued, still more brusquely:

"This train pulls out in three minutes, so you had better prepare tofollow your luggage. You don't stop in Ophir outside of my house, and Idon't think you'll travel much farther for a while. You look as thoughyou needed a bed and good nursing more than anything else just now. "

"I have given him a prescription, sir, " said the physician, "that Ithink will set him right if he gets needed rest and sleep. "

"Humph!" responded Mr. Underwood, gruffly; "he'll get whatever he needs, you can depend on that. You gentlemen assist him out of the car; I'll goand despatch a messenger to the house to have everything in readinessfor him there. "

At the foot of the car steps Darrell parted from the physician and, leaning on Parkinson's arm, slowly made his way through the crowd to thecarriage, where Mr. Underwood awaited him. Parkinson having taken leave, Mr. Underwood assisted the young man into the carriage. A spasm of paincrossed Darrell's face as he saw, just ahead of them, waiting to precedethem on the homeward journey, a light wagon containing a stretchercovered with a heavy black cloth, a line of stalwart young fellows drawnup on either side, and he recalled Whitcomb's parting words on theprevious night, --"When we reach Ophir to-morrow, you'll go directly homewith me. "

This was observed by Mr. Underwood, who remarked a moment later as heseated himself beside Darrell and they started homeward, --

"This is a sad time to introduce you to our home and household, Mr. Darrell, but you will find your welcome none the less genuine on thataccount. "

"Mr. Underwood, " said the young man, in a troubled voice, "this seems tome the most unwarrantable intrusion on my part to accept yourhospitality at such a time----"

Before he could say more, Mr. Underwood placed a firm, heavy hand on hisknee. 

"You stood by my poor boy, Harry, to the last, and that is enough toinsure you a welcome from me and mine. I'm only doing what Harry himselfwould do if he were here. "

"As to what I did for your nephew, God knows it was little enough Icould do, " Darrell answered, bitterly. "I was powerless to defend himagainst the fatal blow, and after that there was no help for him. "

"Did you see him killed?"

"Yes. "

"Tell me all, everything, just as it occurred. "

Mr. Underwood little knew the effort it cost Darrell in his condition togo over the details of the terrible scene, but he forced himself to givea clear, succinct, calm statement of all that took place. The elder mansat looking straight before him, immovable, impassive, like one whoheard not, yet in reality missing nothing that was said. Not untilDarrell repeated Whitcomb's dying words was there any movement on hispart; then he turned his head so that his face was hidden and remainedmotionless and silent as before. At last he inquired, --

"Did he leave no message for me?"

"He mentioned only your daughter, Mr. Underwood; he evidently had somemessage for her which he was unable to give. "

A long silence followed. Darrell, utterly exhausted, sank back into acorner of the carriage. The slight movement roused Mr. Underwood; helooked towards Darrell, whose eyes were closed, and was shocked at hisdeathly pallor. He said nothing, however, for Darrell was again sinkinginto a heavy stupor, but watched him with growing concern, making noattempt to rouse him until the carriage left the street and beganascending a long gravelled driveway; then putting his hand on Darrell'sshoulder, he said, quite loudly, --

"Wake up, my boy! We're getting home now. "

To Darrell his voice sounded faint and far away, like an echo out of avast distance, and it was some seconds before he could realize where hewas or form any definite idea of his surroundings. Gradually he becameconscious that the air was no longer hot and stifling, but cool andfragrant with the sweet, resinous breath of pines. Looking about him, hesaw they were winding upward along an avenue cut through a forest ofsmall, slender pines, which extended below them on one side and farabove them on the other. 

A moment later they came out into a clearing, whence he could see, rising directly before him, in a series of natural terraces, the slopesof the sombre-hued, pine-clad mountain which overlooked the little city. Upon one of the terraces of the mountain stood a massive house of unhewngranite, a house representing no particular style of architecture, butwhose deep bay-windows, broad, winding verandas, and shadowy, secludedbalconies all combined to present an aspect most inviting. To Darrellthe place had an irresistible charm; he gazed at it as thoughfascinated, unable to take his eyes from the scene. 

"You certainly have a beautiful home, Mr. Underwood, " he said, "and amost unique location. I never saw anything quite like it. "

"It will do, " said the elder man, quietly, gratified by what he saw inhis companion's face. "I built it for my little girl. It was her ownidea to have it that way, and she has named it 'The Pines. ' Thank God, I've got her left yet, but she is about all. "

Something in his tone caused Darrell to glance quickly towards him witha look of sympathetic inquiry. They were now approaching the house, andMr. Underwood turned, facing him, a smile for the first time lighting uphis stern, rugged features, as he said, --

"You will find us what my little girl calls a 'patched-up' family. I ama widower; my widowed sister keeps house for me, and Harry, whom I hadgrown to consider almost a son, was an orphan. But the family, such asit is, will make you welcome; I can speak for that. Here we are!"

With a supreme effort Darrell summoned all his energies as Mr. Underwoodassisted him from the carriage and into the house. But the ringing andpounding in his head increased, his brain seemed reeling, and he was sonearly blinded by pain that, notwithstanding his efforts, he was forcedto admit to himself, as a little later he sank upon a couch in the roomassigned to him, that his impressions of the ladies to whom he had justbeen presented were exceedingly vague. 

Mr. Underwood's sister, Mrs. Dean, he remembered as a large woman, low-voiced, somewhat resembling her brother in manner, and like him, offew words, yet something in her greeting had assured him of a welcomeas deep as it was undemonstrative. Of Kate Underwood, in whom he hadfelt more than a passing interest, remembering Whitcomb's love for hiscousin, he recalled a tall, slender, girlish form; a wealth ofgolden-brown hair, and a pair of large, luminous brown eyes, whosewistful, almost appealing look haunted him strangely, though he wasunable to recall another feature of her face. 

Mr. Underwood, who had left the room to telephone for a physician, returned with a faithful servant, and insisted upon Darrell's retiringto bed without delay, a proposition which the latter was only too gladto follow. Darrell had already given Mr. Underwood the package offifteen thousand dollars found on the train, and now, while disrobing, handed him the belt in which he carried his own money, saying, --

"I'll put this in your keeping for a few days, till I feel more likemyself. I lost my watch and some change, but I took the precaution tohave this hidden. "

He stopped abruptly and seemed to be trying to recall something, thencontinued, slowly, --

"There was something else in connection with that affair which I wishedto say to you, but my head is so confused I cannot think what it was. "

"Don't try to think now; it will come to you by and by, " Mr. Underwoodreplied. "You're in good hands, so don't worry yourself about anything, but get all the rest you can. "

With a deep sigh of relief Darrell sank on the pillows, and was soonsleeping heavily. 

A few moments later Mr. Underwood, coming from Darrell's room, havingleft the servant in charge, met his sister coming down the long hall. She beckoned, and, turning, slowly retraced her steps, her brotherfollowing, to another part of the house, where they entered a darkenedchamber and together stood beside a low, narrow couch strewn withfragrant flowers. Together, without a word or a tear, they gazed on thepeaceful face of this sleeper, wrapped in the breathless, dreamlessslumber we call death. They recalled the years since he had come tothem, the dying bequest of their youngest sister, a little, golden-haired prattler, to fill their home with the music of hischildish voice and the sunshine of his smile. Already the great houseseemed strangely silent without his ringing laughter, his bursts ofmerry song. 

But of whatever bitter grief stirred their hearts, this silent brotherand sister, so long accustomed to self-restraint and self-repression, gave no sign. Gently she replaced the covering over the face of thesleeper, and silently they left the room. Not until they again reachedthe door of Darrell's room was the silence broken; then the brothersaid, in low tones, --

"Marcia, we've done all for the dead that can be done; it's the livingwho needs our care now. "

"Yes, " she replied, quietly, "I was going to see what I could do for himwhen you had put him to bed. "

"Bennett is in there now, and I'm going downstairs to wait for Dr. Bradley; he telephoned that he'd be up in twenty minutes. "

"Very well; I'll sit by him till the doctor comes. "

When Dr. Bradley arrived he found Darrell in a state of coma from whichit was almost impossible to arouse him. From Mr. Underwood and hissister he learned whatever details they could furnish, but from thepatient himself very little information could be obtained. 

"He has this fever that is prevailing in the mountainous districts, andhas it in its worst form, " he said, when about to take leave. "Ofcourse, having just come from the East, it would be worse for him in anyevent than if he were acclimated; but aside from that, the cerebralsymptoms are greatly aggravated owing to the nervous shock which hereceived last night. To witness an occurrence of that sort would be moreor less of a shock to nerves in a normal state, but in the condition inwhich he was at the time, it is likely to produce some rather seriouscomplications. Follow these directions which I have written out, andI'll be in again in a couple of hours. "

But in two hours Darrell was delirious. 

"Has he recognized any one since I was here?" Dr. Bradley inquired, ashe again stood beside the patient. 

"I don't think so, " Mrs. Dean replied. "I could hardly rouse him enoughto give him the medicine, and even then he didn't seem to know me. "

"I'll be in about midnight, " said the physician, as he again took leave, "and I'll send a professional nurse, a man; this is likely to be a longsiege. "

"Send whatever is needed, " said Mr. Underwood, brusquely, "the same asif 'twere for the boy himself!"

"And, Mrs. Dean, " the physician continued, "if he should have a lucidinterval, you had better ascertain the address of his friends. "

It was nearly midnight. For hours Darrell had battled against thedarkening shadows fast settling down upon him, enveloping him with ahorror worse than death itself. Suddenly there was a rift in the clouds, and the calm, sweet light of reason stole softly through. He felt a coolhand on his forehead, and, opening his eyes, looked with a smile intothe face of Mrs. Dean as she bent over him. Bending still lower, shesaid, in low, distinct tones:

"Can you tell me the name of your people, and where they live?"

In an instant he comprehended all that her question implied; he mustgive his own name and the address of the far-away eastern home. Hestrove to recall it, but the effort was too great; before he couldspeak, the clouds surged together and all was blotted out in darkness. 

_Chapter IV_

LIFE? OR DEATH?

Hour by hour the clouds thickened, obscuring every ray of light, closingthe avenues of sight and sound, until, isolated from the outer world bythis intangible yet impenetrable barrier, Darrell was alone in a worldpeopled only with the phantoms of his imagination. Of the lapse of time, of the weary procession of days and nights which followed, he knewnothing. Day and night were to him only an endless repetition of thehorrors which thronged his fevered brain. 

Again and again he lived over the tragic scene in the sleeping-car, eachiteration and reiteration growing in dreadful realism, until it was hehimself who grappled in deadly contest with the murderer, and the latterin turn became a monster whose hot breath stifled him, whose malign, demoniacal glance seemed to sear his eyeballs like living fire. Over andover, with failing strength, he waged the unequal contest, striving atlast with a legion of hideous forms. Then, as the clouds grew still moredense about him, these shapes grew dim and he found himself, weak andtrembling, adrift upon a sea of darkness whose black waves tossed himangrily, with each breath threatening to engulf him in their gloomydepths. Desperately he battled with them, each struggle leaving himweaker than the last, until at length, scarcely breathing, his strengthutterly exhausted, he lay watching the towering forms as they sweptrelentlessly towards him, gathering strength and fury as they came. Hesaw the yawning abysses on each side, he heard the roar of theon-coming waves, but was powerless to move hand or foot. 

But while he waited in helpless terror the waves on which he tossed toand fro grew calm; then they seemed to divide, and he felt himself goingdown, down into infinite depths. The sullen roar died away; the darknesswas flooded with golden light, and through its ethereal waves he wasstill floating downward more gently than ever a roseleaf floated toearth on the evening's breath. Through the waves of golden light therecame to him a faint, distant murmur of voices, and the words, --

"He is sinking fast!"

He smiled with perfect content, wondering dreamily if it would neverend; then consciousness was lost in utter oblivion. 

 * * * * *

Three weeks had elapsed since Darrell came to The Pines. August hadgiven place to September, but the languorous days brought no cessationof the fearful heat, no cooling rain to the panting earth, no promise ofrenewed life to the drought-smitten vegetation. The timber on the rangeshad been reduced to masses of charred and smouldering embers, amongwhich the low flames still crept and crawled, winding their way up anddown the mountains. The pall of smoke overhanging the city grew more andmore dense, until there came a morning when, as the sun looked over thedistant ranges, the landscape was suffused with a dull red glare whichsteadily deepened until all objects assumed a blood-red hue. Two orthree hours passed, and then a lurid light illumined the strange scene, brightening moment by moment, till earth and sky glowed like a mass ofmolten copper. The heat seemed to concentrate upon that part of theearth's surface, the air grew oppressive, and an ominous silencereigned, in which even the birds were hushed and the dumb brutes coweredbeside their masters. 

As the brazen glow was fading to a weird, yellow light, an anxious groupwas gathered about Darrell's bedside. He still tossed and moaned indelirium, but his movements had grown pathetically feeble and the moanswere those of a tired child sobbing himself to sleep. 

"He cannot hold out much longer, " said Dr. Bradley, his fingers on theweakening pulse, "his strength is failing rapidly. "

"There will be a change soon, one way or the other, " said the nurse, "and there's not much of a chance left him now. "

"One chance in a hundred, " said Dr. Bradley, slowly; "and that is hiswonderful constitution; he may pull through where ninety-nine otherswould die. "

Dr. Bradley watched the sick man in silence, then noting that the roomwas darkening, he stepped to an open window and cast a look of anxiousinquiry at the murky sky. As if in answer to his thought, there came thelow rumble of distant thunder, bringing a look of relief and hopefulnessto the face of the physician. Returning to the bedside, he gave a fewdirections, then, as he was leaving, remarked, --

"There will be a change in the weather soon, a change that may help toturn the tide in his favor, provided it does not come too late!"

Hours passed; the distant mutterings grew louder, while the darkness andgloom increased, and the sense of oppression became almost intolerable. Suddenly the leaden mass which had overspread the sky appeared to dropto earth, and in the dead silence which followed could be heard the roarof the wind through the gorges and down the canyons. A moment more, andclouds of dust and débris, the outriders of the coming tempest, rushedmadly through the streets in whirling columns towering far above thecity. From their vantage ground the dwellers at The Pines watched thecourse of the storm, but only for a moment; then blinding sheets ofwater hid even the nearest objects from view, while lightnings flashedincessantly and the thunder crashed and rolled in one ceaseless, deafening roar. The trees waved their arms in wild, helpless terror asone and another of their number were prostrated by the storm, while thedry channels on the mountain-side became raging, foaming torrents. Suddenly the winds changed, a chilling blast swept across the plateau, and to the rush of the wind, the roar of the thunder, and the crash offalling timber was added the sharp staccato of swiftly descending hail. 

For nearly an hour the storm raged in its fury, then departed assuddenly as it came; but it left behind a clear atmosphere, crisp as anOctober morning. 

As the storm clouds, touched with beauty by the rays of the setting sun, were settling below the eastern ranges, Dr. Bradley again entered thesick-room. The room was flooded with golden light, and the physician wasquick to note the changes which the few hours had wrought in the sickman. The fever had gone and, his strength spent, his splendid energiesexhausted, life's forces were ebbing moment by moment. 

"He is sinking fast, " said Mrs. Dean. 

Even as she spoke a smile stole over the pallid features; then, as theywatched eagerly for some token of returning consciousness, the nervoussystem, so long strained to its utmost tension, suddenly relaxed andutter collapse followed. 

For hours Darrell lay as one dead, an occasional fluttering about theheart being the only sign of life. But late in the forenoon of thefollowing day the watchers by the bedside, noting each feeble pulsation, thinking it might be the last, felt an almost imperceptible quickeningof the life current. Gradually the fluttering pulse grew calm andsteady, the faint respirations grew deeper and more regular, until atlength, with a long, tremulous sigh, Darrell sank into slumber sweet andrestful as a child's, and the watchers knew that the crisis had passed. 

_Chapter V_

JOHN BRITTON

It was on one of those glorious October days, when every breath quickensthe blood and when simply to live is a joy unspeakable, that Darrellfirst walked abroad into the outdoor world. Several times during hisconvalescence he had sunned himself on the balcony opening from hisroom, or when able to go downstairs had paced feebly up and down theverandas, but of late his strength had returned rapidly, so that now, accompanied by his physician, he was walking back and forth over thegravelled driveway under the pine-trees, his step gaining firmness withevery turn. 

Seated on the veranda were Mr. Underwood and his sister, the one withhis pipe and newspaper, the other with her knitting; but the newspaperhad slipped unheeded to the floor, and though Mrs. Dean's skilfulfingers did not slacken their work for an instant, yet her eyes, likeher brother's, were fastened upon Darrell, and a shade of pity mighthave been detected in the look of each, which the occasion at firstsight hardly seemed to warrant. 

"Poor fellow!" said Mr. Underwood, at length; "it's hard for a young manto be handicapped like that!"

"Yes, " assented his sister, "and he takes it hard, too, though hedoesn't say much. I can't bear to look in his eyes sometimes, they lookso sort of pleading and helpless. "

"Takes it hard!" reiterated Mr. Underwood; "why shouldn't he. I'msatisfied that he is a young man of unusual ability, who had a brightfuture before him, and I tell you, Marcia, it's pretty hard for him towake up and find it all rubbed off the slate!"

"Well, " said Mrs. Dean, with a sigh, "everybody has to carry their ownburdens, but there's a look on his face when he thinks nobody sees himthat makes me wish I could help him carry his, though I don't supposeanybody can, for that matter; it isn't anything that anybody feels likesaying much about. "

"I'm glad Jack is coming, " said Mr. Underwood, after a pause; "he may dohim some good. He has a way of getting at those things that you and Ihaven't, Marcia. "

"Yes, he's seen trouble himself, though nobody knows what it was. "

Notwithstanding the tide of returning vitality was fast restoring tissueand muscle to Darrell's wasted limbs and firmness and elasticity to hisstep, it was yet evident to a close observer that some undercurrent ofsuffering was doing its work day by day; sprinkling the dark hair withgleams of silver, tracing faint lines in the face hitherto untouched bycare, working its subtle, mysterious changes. 

When a new lease of life was granted to John Darrell and he awoke toconsciousness, it was to find that every detail of his past life hadbeen blotted out, leaving only a blank. Of his home, his friends, of hisown name even, not a vestige of memory was left. It was as though he hadentered upon a new existence. 

By degrees, as he was able to hear them, he was given the details of hisarrival at Ophir, of his coming to The Pines, of the tragedy which hehad witnessed in the sleeping-car, but they awoke no memories in hismind. For him there was no past. As a realization of his conditiondawned upon him his mental distress was pitiable. Despite the efforts ofphysician and nurse to divert his mind, he would lie for hours trying torecall some fragment from the veiled and shrouded past, but all in vain. Yet, with returning physical strength, many of his former attainmentsseemed to return to him, naturally and without effort. Dr. Bradley oneday used a Latin phrase in his hearing; he at once repeated it and, without a moment's hesitation, gave the correct rendering, but wasunable to tell how he did it. 

"It simply came to me, " was all the explanation he could give. 

From this the physician argued that the memory of his past life wouldsooner or later return, and it was this hope alone which at that timesaved Darrell from total despair. 

Aside from his professional interest in so peculiar a case, Dr. Bradleyhad become interested in Darrell himself; many of his leisure hours werespent at The Pines, and quite a friendship existed between the two. 

In Mr. Underwood and his sister Darrell had found two steadfast friends, each seeming to vie with the other in thoughtful, unobtrusive kindness. His strange misfortune had only deepened and intensified the sympathywhich had been first aroused by the peculiar circumstances under whichhe had come to them. But now, as then, they said little, and for thisDarrell was grateful. Even the silent pity which he read in their eyeshurt him, --why, he could scarcely explain to himself; expressed inwords, it would have been intolerable. Early in his convalescenceDarrell had expressed an unwillingness to trespass upon their kindnessby remaining after he could with safety be moved, but the few words theyhad spoken on that occasion had effectually silenced any furthersuggestion of the kind on his part. He understood that to leave themwould be to forfeit their friendship, which he well knew was of a sorttoo rare to be slighted or thrown aside. 

Of Kate Underwood Darrell knew nothing, except as her father or auntspoke of her, for he had no recollection of her and she had left homeearly in his illness to return to an eastern college, from which shewould graduate the following year. 

With more animation than he had yet shown since his illness, Darrellreturned to the veranda. He was flushed and trembling slightly from theunusual exertion, and Dr. Bradley, dropping down beside him, from forceof habit laid his fingers on Darrell's wrist, but the latter shook themoff playfully. 

"No more of that!" he exclaimed, adding, "Doctor, I challenge you for arace two weeks from to-day. What do you say, do you take me up?"

"Two weeks from to-day!" repeated the doctor, with an incredulous smile, at the same time scrutinizing Darrell's form. "Well, yes. When you arein ordinary health I don't think I would care to do much business withyou along that line, but two weeks from to-day is a safe proposition, Iguess. What do you want to make it, a hundred yards?" he inquired, witha laughing glance at Mr. Underwood. 

"One hundred yards, " replied Darrell, following the direction of thedoctor's glance. "Do you want to name the winner, Mr. Underwood?"

"I'll back you, my boy, " said the elder man, quietly, his shrewd facegrowing a trifle shrewder. 

"What!" exclaimed Dr. Bradley, rising hastily;

"I guess it's about time I was going, if that's your estimate of myathletic prowess, " and, shaking hands with Darrell, he started down thedriveway. 

"I'll put you up at about ten to one, " Mr. Underwood called after theretreating figure, but a deprecatory wave of his hand over his shoulderwas the doctor's only reply. 

"Oh, " exclaimed Darrell, looking about him, "this is glorious! This isone of the days that make a fellow feel that life is worth living!"

Even as he spoke there came to his mind the thought of what life meantto him, and the smile died from his lips and the light from his eyes. 

For a moment nothing was said, then, with the approaching sound ofrhythmic hoof-beats, Mr. Underwood rose, deliberately emptying the ashesfrom his pipe as a fine pair of black horses attached to a lightcarriage appeared around the house from the direction of the stables. 

"You will be back for lunch, David?" Mrs. Dean inquired. 

"Yes, and I'll bring Jack with me, " was his reply, as he seated himselfbeside the driver, and the horses started at a brisk trot down thedriveway. 

With a smile Mrs. Dean addressed Darrell, who was watching the horseswith a keen appreciation of their good points. 

"This 'Jack' that you've heard my brother speak of is his partner. "

"Yes?" said Darrell, courteously, feeling slight interest in theexpected guest, but glad of anything to divert his thoughts. 

"Yes, " Mrs. Dean continued; "they've been partners and friends for morethan ten years. His name is John Britton, but it's never anything but'Dave' and 'Jack' between the two; they're almost like two boystogether. "

Darrell wondered what manner of man this might be who could transformhis silent, stern-faced host into anything boy-like, but he saidnothing. 

"To see them together you'd wonder at their friendship, too, " continuedMrs. Dean, "for they're noways alike. My brother is all business, andMr. Britton is not what you'd really call a practical business man. Heis very rich, for he is one of those men that everything they touchseems to turn to gold, but he doesn't seem to care much about money. Hespends a great deal of his time in reading and studying, and though hemakes very few friends, he could have any number of them if he wanted, for he's one of those people that you always feel drawn to withoutknowing why. "

Mrs. Dean paused to count the stitches in her work, and Darrell, whosethoughts were of the speaker more than of the subject of conversation, watching her placid face, wondered whether it were possible for anyemotion ever to disturb that calm exterior. Presently she resumed hersubject, speaking in low, even tones, which a slight, gentle inflectionnow and then just saved from monotony. 

"He's always a friend to anybody in distress, and I guess there isn't apoor person or a friendless person in Ophir that doesn't know him andlove him. He has had some great trouble; nobody knows what it is, but hetold David once that it had changed his whole life. "

Darrell now became interested, and the dark eyes fixed on Mrs. Dean'sface grew suddenly luminous with the quick sympathy her words hadaroused. 

"He always seems to be on the lookout for anybody that has trouble, tohelp them; that's how he got to know my brother. "

Mrs. Dean hesitated a moment. "I never spoke of this to any one before, but I thought maybe you'd be interested to know about it, " she said, looking at Darrell with a slightly apologetic air. 

"I am, and I think I understand and appreciate your motive, " was hisquiet reply. 

She dropped her work, folding her hands above it, and her face wore areminiscent look as she continued:

"When David's wife died, twelve years ago, it was an awful blow to him. He didn't say much, --that isn't our way, --but we were afraid he wouldnever be the same again. His brother was out here at that time, but noneof us could do anything for him. He kept on trying to attend to businessjust as usual, but he seemed, as you might say, to have lost his grip onthings. It went on that way for nearly two years; his business gotbehind and everything seemed to be slipping through his fingers, when hehappened to get acquainted with Mr. Britton, and he seemed to know justwhat to say and do. He got David interested in business again. He loanedhim money to start with, and they went into business together and havebeen together ever since. They have both been successful, but David hasworked and planned for what he has, while Mr. Britton's money seems tocome to him. He owns property all over the State, and all through theWest for that matter, and sometimes he's in one place and sometimes inanother, but he never stays very long anywhere. David would like to havehim make his home with us, but he told him once that he couldn't thinkof it; that he only stayed in a place till the pain got to be more thanhe could bear, and then he went somewhere else. "

A long silence followed; then, as Mrs. Dean folded her work, she said, softly, --

"It's no wonder he knows just how to help folks who are in trouble, forI guess he has suffered himself more than anybody knows. "

A little later she had gone indoors to superintend the preparations forlunch, but Darrell still sat in the mellow, autumn sunlight, his eyesclosed, picturing to himself this stranger silently bearing his hiddenburden, changing from place to place, but always keeping the pain. 

It still lacked two hours of sunset when John Darrell, leaning on thearm of John Britton, walked slowly up the mountain-path to a rustic seatunder the pines. They had met at lunch. Mr. Britton had already heardthe strange story of Darrell's illness, and, looking into his eyes withtheir troubled questioning, their piteous appeal, knew at once by swiftintuition how hopelessly bewildering and dark life must look to theyoung man before him just at the age when it usually is brightest andmost alluring; and Darrell, meeting the steadfast gaze of the clear, gray eyes, saw there no pity, but something infinitely broader, deeper, and sweeter, and knew intuitively that they were united by thefellowship of suffering, that mysterious tie which has not only boundhuman hearts together in all ages, but has linked suffering humanitywith suffering Divinity. 

For more than two hours Darrell, taking little part himself in thegeneral conversation, had watched, as one entranced, the play of thefine features and listened to the deep, musical voice of this strangerwho was a stranger no longer. 

He was an excellent conversationalist; humorous without being cynical, scholarly without being pedantic, and showing especial familiarity withhistory and the natural sciences. 

At last, while walking up and down the broad veranda, Mr. Britton hadpaused beside Darrell, and throwing an arm over his shoulder had said, --

"Come, my son, let us have a little stroll. "

Darrell's heart had leaped strangely at the words, he knew not why, andin a silence pregnant with deep emotion on both sides, they had climbedto the rustic bench. Here they sat down. The ground at their feet wascarpeted with pine-needles; the air was sweet with the fragrance of thepines and of the warm earth; no sound reached their ears aside from thechirping of the crickets, the occasional dropping of a pine-cone, or thegentle sighing of the light breeze through the branches above theirheads. 

A glorious scene lay outspread before them; the distant ranges halfveiled in purple haze, the valleys flooded with golden light, brightenedby the autumnal tints of the deciduous timber which marked the coursesof numerous small streams, and over the whole a restful silence, asthough, the year's work ended, earth was keeping some grand, solemnholiday. 

Mr. Britton first broke the silence, as in low tones he murmured, reverently, --

"'Thou crownest the year with Thy goodness!'"

Then turning to Darrell with a smile of peculiar sweetness, he said, "This is one of what I call the year's 'coronation days, ' when evenNature herself rests from her labors and dons her royal robes in honorof the occasion. "

Then, as an answering light dawned in Darrell's eyes and the tense linesin his face began to relax, Mr. Britton continued, musingly:

"I have often wondered why we do not imitate Nature in her great annualholiday, and why we, a nation who garners one of the richest harvests ofthe world, do not have a national harvest festival. How effectively andfittingly, for instance, something similar to the old Jewish feast oftabernacles might be celebrated in this part of the country! In theearliest days of their history the Jews were commanded, when the year'sharvest had been gathered, to take the boughs of goodly trees, ofpalm-trees and willows, and to construct booths in which they were todwell, feasting and rejoicing, for seven days. In the only account givenof one of these feasts, we read that the people brought olive-branchesand pine-branches, myrtle-branches and palm-branches, and madethemselves booths upon the roofs of their houses, in their courts, andin their streets, and dwelt in them, 'and there was very greatgladness. ' Imagine such a scene on these mountain-slopes and foot-hills, under these cloudless skies; the sombre, evergreen boughs interwovenwith the brightly colored foliage from the lowlands; this mellow, goldensunlight by day alternating with the white, mystical radiance of theharvest moon by night. "

Mr. Britton's words had, as he intended they should, drawn Darrell'sthoughts from himself. Under his graphic description, accompanied by thepowerful magnetism of his voice and presence, Darrell seemed to see theOriental festival which he had depicted and to feel a soothing influencefrom the very simplicity and beauty of the imaginary scene. 

"Think of the rest, the relaxation, in a week of such a life!" continuedMr. Britton. "Re-creation, in the true sense of the word. The simplestjoys are the sweetest, but our lives have grown too complex for us toappreciate them. Our amusements and recreations, as we call them, areoften more wearing and exhausting than our labors. "

For nearly an hour Mr. Britton led the conversation on general subjects, carefully avoiding every personal allusion; Darrell following, interested, animated, wondering more and more at the man beside him, until the latter tactfully led him to speak--calmly and dispassionately, as he could not have spoken an hour before--of himself. Almost before hewas aware, Darrell had told all: of his vain gropings in the darknessfor some clue to the past; of the helpless feeling akin to despair whichsometimes took possession of him when he attempted to face the situationcontinuously confronting him. 

During his recital Mr. Britton had thrown his arm about Darrell'sshoulder, and when he paused quite a silence followed. 

"Did it ever occur to you, " Mr. Britton said at length, speaking veryslowly, "that there are hundreds--yes, thousands--who would be only tooglad to exchange places with you to-day?"

"No, " Darrell replied, too greatly astonished to say more. 

"But there are legions of poor souls, haunted by crime, or crushedbeneath the weight of sorrow, whose one prayer would be, if such a thingwere possible, that their past might be blotted out; that they might befree to begin life anew, with no memories dogging their steps likespectres, threatening at every turn to work their undoing. "

For a moment Darrell regarded his friend with a fixed, inquiring gaze, which gradually changed to a look of comprehension. 

"I see, " he said at length, "I have got to begin life anew; but youconsider that there are others who have to make the start underconditions worse than mine. "

"Far worse, " said Mr. Britton. "Don't think for a moment that I fail torealize in how many ways you are handicapped or to appreciate theobstacles against which you will have to contend, but this I do say: thefuture is in your own hands--as much as it is in the hands of anymortal--to make the most of and the best of that you can, and with thenegative advantage, at least, that you are untrammelled by a past thatcan hold you back or drag you down. "

The younger man laid his hand on the knee of the elder with a gesturealmost appealing. "The future, until now, has looked very dark to me; itbegins to look brighter. Advise me; tell me how best to begin!"

"In one word, " said Mr. Britton, with a smile. "Work! Just as soon asyou are able, find some work to do. Did we but know it, work is thesurest antidote for the poisonous discontent and ennui of this world, the swiftest panacea for its pains and miseries; different forms to suitdifferent cases, but every form brings healing and blessing, even downto the humblest manual labor. "

"That is just what I have wanted, " said Darrell, eagerly; "to go to workas soon as possible; but what can I do? What am I fitted for? I have notthe slightest idea. I don't care to work at breaking stone, though Isuppose that would be better than nothing. "

"That would be better than nothing, " said Mr. Britton, smiling again, "but that would not be suited to your case. What you need is mentalwork, something to keep your mind constantly occupied, and rest assuredyou will find it when you are ready for it. Our Father provides what weneed just when we need it. 'Day by day' we have the 'daily bread' formental and spiritual life, as for temporal. But what you most want to dois to keep your mind pleasantly occupied, and above all things don'ttry to recall the past. In God's own good time it will return ofitself. "

"And when it does, what revelations will it bring?" Darrell queriedmusingly. 

"Nothing that you will be afraid or ashamed to meet; of that I am sure, "said Mr. Britton, confidently, adding a moment later, in a lighter tone, "It is nearing sunset, my boy, and time that I was taking you back tothe house. "

"You have given me new courage, new hope, " said Darrell, rising. "I feelnow as though there were something to live for--as though I might makesomething out of life, after all. "

"I realize, " said Mr. Britton, tenderly, as together they began thedescent of the mountain path, "as deeply as you do that your life issadly disjointed; but strive so to live that when the broken fragmentsare at last united they will form one harmonious and symmetrical whole. It is a difficult task, I know, but the result will be well worth theeffort. In your case, my son, even more than in ordinary lives, thewords of the poet are peculiarly applicable:

 "'A sacred burden is this life ye bear: Look on it, lift it, bear it solemnly; Stand up and walk beneath it steadfastly; Fail not for sorrow, falter not for sin, But onward, upward, till the goal ye win. '"

An hour later John Britton stood alone on one of the mountain terraces, his tall, lithe form silhouetted against the evening sky, his armsfolded, his face lifted upward. It was a face of marvellous strength andsweetness combined. Sorrow had set its unmistakable seal upon hisfeatures; here and there pain had traced its ineffaceable lines; butthe firmly set mouth was yet inexpressibly tender, the calm brow wasunfurrowed, and the clear eyes had the far-seeing look of one who, likethe Alpine traveller, had reached the heights above the clouds, to whosevision were revealed glories undreamed of by the dwellers in the valesbelow. 

And to Darrell, watching from his room the distant figure outlinedagainst the sky, the simple grandeur, the calm triumph of its pose musthave brought some revelation concerning this man of whom he knew solittle, yet whose personality even more than his words had taken so firma hold upon himself, for, as the light faded and deepening twilight hidthe solitary figure from view, he turned from the window, and, pacingslowly up and down the room, soliloquized:

"With him for a friend, I can meet the future with courage and awaitwith patience the resurrection of the buried past. As he has conquered, so will I conquer; I will scale the heights after him, until I standwhere he stands to-night!"

_Chapter VI_

ECHOES FROM THE PAST

During his stay at The Pines Mr. Britton spent the greater portion ofhis time with Mr. Underwood, either at their offices or at the mines. Darrell, therefore, saw little of his new-found friend except as theyall gathered in the evening around the glowing fire in the large familysitting-room, for, notwithstanding the lingering warmth and sunshine ofthe days, the nights were becoming sharp and frosty, so that an openfire added much to the evening's enjoyment. Each morning, however, before his departure, Mr. Britton stopped for a few words with Darrell;some quaint, kindly bit of humor, the pleasant flavor of which wouldenliven the entire day; some unhackneyed expression of sympathy whosevery genuineness and sincerity made Darrell's position seem to him lessisolated and solitary than before; or some suggestion which, acted upon, relieved the monotony of the tedious hours of convalescence. 

At his suggestion Darrell took vigorous exercise each day in the morningair and sunshine, devoting his afternoons to a course of light, pleasantreading. 

"If you are going to work, " said Mr. Britton, "the first requisite is tohave your body and mind in just as healthful and normal a condition aspossible, in order that you may be able to give an equivalent for whatyou receive. In these days of trouble between employer and employed, wehear a great deal about the laborer demanding an honest equivalent forhis toil, but it does not occur to him to inquire whether he is givinghis employer an honest equivalent for his money. The fact is, a largepercentage of working-men and working-women, in all departments oflabor, are squandering their energies night after night in various formsand degrees of dissipation until they are utterly incapacitated for onehonest day's work; yet they do not hesitate to take a full day's wages, and would consider themselves wronged were the smallest fractionwithheld. "

Darrell found himself rather restricted in his reading for the first fewdays, as he found but a limited number of books at The Pines, until Mrs. Dean, who had received a hint from Mr. Britton, meeting him one day inthe upper hall, led him into two darkened rooms, saying, as she hastenedto open the blinds, --

"These are what the children always called their 'dens. ' All their booksare here, and I thought maybe you'd like to look them over. If you seeanything you like, just help yourself, and use the rooms for reading orwriting whenever you want to. "

Darrell, left to himself, looked about him with much interest. The tworooms were similar in style and design, but otherwise were as diverse aspossible. The room in which he was standing was furnished in embossedleather. A leather couch stood near one of the windows, and a largereclining-chair of the same material was drawn up before the fireplace. Near the mantel was a pipe-rack filled with fine specimens of briar-woodand meerschaum pipes. Signs of tennis, golf, and various athletic sportswere visible on all sides; in the centre of the room stood a largeroll-top desk, open, and on it lay a briar pipe, filled with ashes, justwhere the owner's hand had laid it. But what most interested Darrell wasa large portrait over the fireplace, which he knew must be that ofHarry Whitcomb. The face was neither especially fine nor strong, but thewinsome smile lurking about the curves of the sensitive mouth and in thedepths of the frank blue eyes rendered it attractive, and it was with asigh for the young life so suddenly blotted out that Darrell turned toenter the second room. 

He paused at the doorway, feeling decidedly out of place, and glancedabout him with a serio-comic smile. The furnishings were as unique aspossible, no one piece in the room bearing any relation or similarity toany other piece. There were chairs and tables of wicker-work, twistedinto the most ornate designs, interspersed among heavy, antique piecesof carving and slender specimens of colonial simplicity; divans coveredwith pillows of every delicate shade imaginable; exquisite etchings anddainty bric-à-brac. In an alcove formed by a large bay-window stood awriting-desk of ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and on an easel in asecluded corner, partially concealed by silken draperies, was theportrait of Kate Underwood, --a childish, rather immature face, but witha mouth indicating both sweetness and strength of character, and withdark, strangely appealing eyes. 

The walls of both rooms were lined with bookcases, but their contentswere widely diverse, and, to Darrell's surprise, he found the younggirl's library contained far the better class of books. But even intheir selection he observed the same peculiarity that he had noted inthe furnishing of the room; there were few complete sets of books;instead, there were one, two, or three volumes of each author, as thecase might be, evidently her especial favorites. 

But Darrell returned to the other room, which interested him far more, each article in it bearing eloquent testimony to the happy young lifeof whose tragic end he had now often heard, but of which he was unableto recall the faintest memory. Passing slowly through the room, hisattention was caught by a violin case standing in an out-of-the-waycorner. With a cry of joy he drew it forth, his fingers trembling witheagerness as he opened it and took therefrom a genuine Stradivarius. Atthat moment his happiness knew no bounds. Seating himself and bendinghis head over the instrument after the manner of a true violin lover, hedrew the bow gently across the strings, producing a chord of suchtriumphant sweetness that the air seemed vibrating with the joy which atthat instant thrilled his own soul. 

Immediately all thought of himself or of his surroundings was lost. Witheyes half closed and dreamy he began to play, without effort, almostmechanically, but with the deft touch of a master hand, while liquidharmonies filled the room, quivering, rising, falling; at times low, plaintive, despairing; then swelling exultantly, only to die away intremulous, minor undertones. The man's pent-up feelings had at lastfound expression, --his alternate hope and despair, his unutterableloneliness and longing, --all voiced by the violin. 

Of the lapse of time Darrell had neither thought nor consciousness untilthe door opened and Mrs. Dean's calm smile and matter-of-fact voicerecalled him to a material world. 

"I see that you have found Harry's violin, " she said. 

"I beg your pardon, " Darrell stammered, somewhat dazed by his suddendescent to the commonplace, "I ought not to have taken it; I neverthought, --I was so delighted to find the instrument and so carried awaywith its tones, --it never occurred to me how it might seem to you!"

"Oh, that is all right, " she interposed, quietly; "use it whenever youlike. Harry bought it two years ago, but he never had the patience tolearn it, so it has been used very little. I never heard such playing asyours, and I stepped in to ask you to bring it downstairs and play forus to-night. Mr. Britton will be delighted; he enjoys everything of thatsort. "

Around the fireside that evening Darrell had an attentive audience, though the appreciation of his auditors was manifested in a mannercharacteristic of each. Mr. Underwood, after two or three futileattempts to talk business with his partner, finding him veryuncommunicative, gave himself up to the enjoyment of his pipe and themusic in about equal proportions, indulging surreptitiously inoccasional brief naps, though always wide awake at the end of eachnumber and joining heartily in the applause. 

Mrs. Dean sat gazing into the glowing embers, her face lighted withquiet pleasure, but her knitting-needles twinkled and flashed in thefirelight with the same unceasing regularity, and she doubled and seamedand "slipped and bound" her stitches with the same monotonous precisionas on other evenings. 

Mr. Britton, in a comfortable reclining-chair, sat silent, motionless, his head thrown back, his eyes nearly closed, but in the varyingexpression of his mobile face Darrell found both inspiration andcompensation. 

For more than three hours Darrell entertained his friends; quaintmedleys, dreamy waltzes, and bits of classical music following one afteranother, with no effort, no hesitancy, on the part of the player. Totheir eager inquiries, he could only answer, --

"I don't know how I do it. They seem to come to me with the sweep ofthe bow across the strings. I have no recollection of anything that I amplaying; it seems as though the instrument and I were simply drifting. "

Late in the evening, when they were nearly ready to separate for thenight, Darrell sat idly strumming the violin, when an old familiarstrain floated sweetly forth, and his astonished listeners suddenlyheard him singing in a rich baritone an old love-song, forgotten untilthen by every one present. 

Mrs. Dean had already laid aside her work and sat with hands folded, asmile of unusual tenderness hovering about her lips, while Mr. Britton'sface was quivering with emotion. At its conclusion he grasped Darrell'shand silently. 

"That is a very old song, " said Mrs. Dean. "It seems queer to hear yousing it. I used to hear it sung when I was a young girl, and that, " sheadded smiling, "was a great many years ago. "

"And I have sung it many a time a great many years ago, " said Mr. Britton. And he hastily left the room. 

_Chapter VII_

AT THE MINES

Once fairly started on the road to health, Darrell gained marvellously. Each day marked some new acquisition in physical health and muscularvigor, while his systematic reading, the soothing influence of the musicto which he devoted a considerable time each day, and, more than all, his growing intimacy with Mr. Britton, were doing much towards restoringa better mental equipoise. 

The race to which he had challenged Dr. Bradley took place on a frostymorning early in November, Mr. Underwood himself measuring and markingthe course for the runners and Mr. Britton acting as starter. The resultwas a victory for Darrell, who came out more than a yard ahead of hisopponent, somewhat to the chagrin of the latter, who had won quite alocal reputation as an athlete. 

"You'll do, " he said to Darrell, as he took leave a few moments later, "but don't pose here as an invalid any longer, or I'll expose you as afraud. Understand, I cross your name off my list of patients to-day. "

"But not off your list of friends, I hope, " Darrell rejoined, as theyshook hands. 

When Dr. Bradley had gone, Darrell turned to Mr. Britton, who wasstanding near, saying, as his face grew serious, --

"Dr. Bradley is right; I'm no invalid now, and I must quit this idling. I must find what I can do and go to work. "

"All in good time, " said Mr. Britton, pleasantly. "We'll find somethingfor you before I go from here. Meanwhile, I want to give you a littlepleasure-trip if you are able to take it. How would you like to go outto the mines to-morrow with Mr. Underwood and myself? Do you think youcould 'rough it' with us old fellows for a couple of days?"

"You couldn't have suggested anything that would please me better, "Darrell answered. "I would like the change, and it's time I was roughingit. Perhaps when I get out there I'll decide to take a pick and shoveland start in at the bottom of the ladder and work my way up. "

"Is that necessary?" queried Mr. Britton, regarding the younger man withclose but kindly scrutiny. "Mr. Underwood tells me that you brought aconsiderable amount of money with you when you came here, which he hasdeposited to your credit. "

Darrell met the penetrating gaze unwaveringly, as he replied, with quietdecision, "That money may be mine, or it may not; it may have been givenme to hold in trust. In any event, it belongs to the past, and it willremain where it is, intact, until the past is unveiled. "

Mr. Britton looked gratified, as he remarked, in a low tone, "I don'tthink you need any assurance, my boy, that I will back you with all thecapital you need, if you would like to start in business. "

"No, Mr. Britton, " said Darrell, deeply touched by the elder man'skindness; "I know, without words, that I could have from you whatever Ineeded, but it is useless for me to think of going into business with aslittle knowledge of myself as I have at present. The best thing for meis to take whatever work offers itself, until I find what I am fittedfor or to what I can best adapt myself. "

The next morning found Darrell at an early hour on his way to the miningcamp with Mr. Underwood and Mr. Britton. The ground was white andglistening with frost, and the sun, not yet far above the horizon, shonewith a pale, cold light, but Darrell, wrapped in a fur coat of Mr. Underwood's, felt only the exhilarating effect of the thin, keen air, and as the large, double-seated carriage, drawn by two powerful horses, descended the pine-clad mountain and passed down one of the principalstreets of the little city, he looked about him with lively interest. 

Leaving the town behind them, they soon began the ascent of a windingcanyon. After two or three turns, to Darrell's surprise, every sign ofhuman habitation vanished and only the rocky walls were visible, atfirst low and receding, but gradually growing higher and steeper. Onthey went, steadily ascending, till a turn suddenly brought the distantmountains into closer proximity, and Mr. Britton, pointing to a lofty, rugged range on Darrell's right, said, --

"There lies the Great Divide. "

For two hours they wound steadily upward, the massive rocks towering onall sides, barren, grotesque in form, but beautiful in coloring, --dullreds, pale greens, and lovely blues and purples staining the sombregrays and browns. 

Darrell had grown silent, and his companions, supposing him absorbed inthe grandeur and beauty of the scenery, left him to his own reflectionswhile they talked on matters of interest to themselves. 

But to Darrell the surrounding rocks were full of a strange, deepsignificance. The colorings and markings in the gray granite were to himwhat the insignia of the secret orders are to the initiated, repletewith mystical meaning. To him had come the sudden realization that hewas in Nature's laboratory, and in the hieroglyphics traced on thegranite walls he read the symbols of the mysterious alchemy silently andsecretly wrought beneath their surface. The vastness of the scale ofNature's work, the multiplicity of her symbols, bewildered him, but inhis own mind he knew that he still held the key to this mysterious code, and the knowledge thrilled him with delight. He gazed about him, fascinated, saying nothing, but trembling with joy and with eagerness toput himself to the test, and it was with difficulty that he controlledhis impatience till the long ride should come to an end. 

At last they left the canyon and followed a steep road winding up theside of a mountain, which, after an hour's hard climbing, brought themto the mining camp. As the carriage stopped Darrell was the first toalight, springing quickly to the ground and looking eagerly about him. 

At a short distance beyond them the road was terminated by the largemilling plant, above which the mountain rose abruptly, its sides dottedwith shaft-houses and crossed and recrossed with trestle-work almost tothe summit. A wooden flume clung like a huge serpent to the steepslopes, and a tramway descended from near the summit to the mill below. At a little distance from the mill were the boarding-house andbunk-houses, while in the foreground, near the road was the officebuilding, to which the party adjourned after exchanging greetings withMr. Hathaway, the superintendent, who had come out to meet them and towhom Darrell was duly introduced. The room they first entered was thesuperintendent's office. Beyond that was a pleasant reception-room, while in the rear were the private rooms of the superintendent and theassayer, who were not expected to share the bunk-houses with the miners. 

Mr. Underwood and the superintendent at once proceeded to business, butMr. Britton, mindful of Darrell's comfort, ushered him into thereception-room. A coal-fire was glowing in a small grate; a couch, threeor four comfortable chairs, and a few books and magazines contributed togive the room a cosey appearance, but the object which instantly rivetedDarrell's attention was a large case, extending nearly across one sideof the room, filled with rare mineralogical and geological specimens. There were quartz crystals gleaming with lumps of free-milling gold, curling masses of silver and copper wire direct from the mines, goldnuggets of unusual size and brilliancy, and specimens of ores from theprincipal mines not only of that vicinity, but of the West. 

Observing Darrell's interest in the contents of the case, Mr. Brittonthrew open the doors for a closer inspection, and began calling hisattention to some of the finest specimens, but at Darrell's firstremarks he paused, astonished, listened a few moments, then stepping tothe next room, called Mr. Underwood. That gentleman looked somewhatperturbed at the interruption, but at a signal from Mr. Britton, followed the latter quietly across the room to where Darrell wasstanding. Here they stood, silently listening, while Darrell, unconscious of their presence, went rapidly through the specimens, classifying the different ores, stating the conditions which hadcontributed to their individual characteristics, giving the approximatevalue of each and the mode of treatment required for its reduction; allafter the manner of a student rehearsing to himself a well-connedlesson. 

At last, catching sight of the astonished faces of his listeners, hisown lighted with pleasure, as he exclaimed, joyously, --

"I wanted to test myself and see if it would come back to me, and ithas! I believed it would, and it has!"

"What has come back to you?" queried Mr. Underwood, too bewilderedhimself to catch the drift of Darrell's meaning. 

"The knowledge of all this, " Darrell answered, indicating the collectionwith a swift gesture; "it began to come to me as soon as I saw the rockson our way up; it confused me at first, but it is all clear now. Take meto your mill, Mr. Underwood; I want to see what I can do with the oresthere. "

At that moment Mr. Hathaway entered to summon the party to dinner, andseeing Darrell standing by the case, his hands filled with specimens, hesaid, addressing Mr. Underwood with a pleasant tone of inquiry, --

"Mr. Darrell is a mining man?"

But Mr. Underwood was still too confused to answer intelligibly, and itwas Mr. Britton who replied, as he linked his arm within Darrell's onturning to leave the room, --

"Mr. Darrell is a mineralogist. "

At dinner Darrell found himself too excited to eat, so overjoyed was heat the discovery of attainments he had not dreamed he possessed, and soeager to put them to every test possible. 

It had been Mr. Underwood's intention to visit the mines that afternoon, but at Darrell's urgent request, they went first to the mill. Here hefound ample scope for his abilities. He fairly revelled in the variousores, separating, assorting, and classifying them with the rapidity andaccuracy of an expert, and at once proceeded to assay some samplestaken from a new lead recently struck, the report of which hadoccasioned this particular trip to the camp. He worked with a dexterityand skill surprising in one of his years, producing the most accurateresults, to the astonishment and delight of both Mr. Underwood and Mr. Britton. 

After an extended inspection of the different departments of the largemilling plant, he was taken into a small laboratory, where the assayerin charge was testing some of the recently discovered ore for thepresence of certain metals. After watching for a while in silenceDarrell said, turning to Mr. Underwood, --

"I can give you a quicker and a surer test than that!"

The assayer and himself at once exchanged places, and, unheeding themany eyes fixed upon him, Darrell seated himself before the long tableand deftly began operations. Not a word broke the silence as by methodswholly new to his spectators he subjected the ore to successive chemicalchanges, until, within an incredibly short time, the presence of thesuspected metals was demonstrated beyond the shadow of a doubt. 

"Mineralogist and metallurgist!" exclaimed Mr. Britton delightedly, ashe congratulated Darrell upon his success. 

The short November day had now nearly drawn to a close, and after supperthe gentlemen adjourned to the office building, where they spent an houror more around the open fire. Darrell, who was quite wearied with theunusual exertion and excitement of the day, retired early, thesuperintendent and assayer had gone out on some business at the mill, and Mr. Underwood and Mr. Britton were left together. No sooner werethey by themselves than Mr. Britton, who was walking up and down theroom, stopped beside his partner as he sat smoking and gazingabstractedly into the fire, and, laying a hand on his shoulder, said, --

"Well, Dave, what do you think? After what we've seen to-day, can't youmake a place over there at the mill for the boy?"

"Hang it all!" answered the other, somewhat testily, secretly a littlejealous of the growing intimacy between his partner and Darrell;"supposing I can, is there any need of your dipping in your oar aboutit? Do you think I need any suggestion from you in the way ofbefriending him or standing by him?"

"No, Dave, " said Mr. Britton, pleasantly, dropping into a chair by Mr. Underwood's side, "I did not put my question with a view of making anysuggestions. I know, and Darrell knows, that he hasn't a better friendthan you, and because I know this, and also because I am a friend to youboth, I was interested to ask you what you intended doing for him. "

"What I intended doing for him and what I probably will actually do forhim are two altogether different propositions--all on account of his ownpig-headedness, " was the rather surly response. 

"How's that?" Mr. Britton inquired. 

"Why, confound the fellow! I took a liking to him from the first, cominghere the way he did, and after what he did for Harry there was nothing Iwouldn't have done for him. Then, after his sickness, when we found hismemory had gone back on him and left him helpless as a child in someways, I knew he'd stand no show among strangers, and my idea was to takehim in, in Harry's place, give him a small interest in the businessuntil he got accustomed to it, and then after a while let him in aspartner. But when I broached the subject to him, a week ago or so, hewouldn't hear to it; said he'd rather find some work for which he wasadapted and stick to that, at a regular salary. I told him he wasmissing a good thing, but nothing that I could say would make anydifference. "

"Well, " said Mr. Britton, slowly, "I'm not sure but his is the wiserplan. You must remember, Dave, that his stay with us will probably bebut temporary. Whenever that portion of his brain which is now dormantdoes awaken, you can rest assured he will not remain here long. He nodoubt realizes this and wishes to be absolutely foot-loose, ready toleave at short notice. And as to the financial side of the question, ifyou give him the place in your mill for which he is eminently fitted, itwill be fully as remunerative in the long run as the interest in thebusiness which you intended giving him. "

"What place in the mill do you refer to?" Mr. Underwood asked, quickly. 

"Oh, I'm not making any 'suggestions, ' Dave; you don't need them. " AndMr. Britton smiled quietly into the fire. 

"Go ahead and say your say, Jack, " said the other, his own face relaxinginto a grim smile; "that was only a bit of my crankiness, and you knowme well enough to know it. "

"Give him the position of assayer in charge. "

"Great Scott! and fire Benson, who's been there for five years?"

"It makes no difference how long he's been there. Darrell is a betterman every way, --quicker, more accurate, more scientific. You can putBenson to sorting and weighing ores down at the ore-bins. "

After a brief silence Mr. Britton continued, "You couldn't find a betterman for the place or a better position for the man. The work isevidently right in the line of his profession, and therefore congenial;and even though you should pay him no more salary than Benson, that, with outside work in the way of assays for neighboring camps, will bebetter than any business interest you would give him short of twelve oreighteen months at least. "

"I guess you're right, and I'll give him the place; but hang it all! Idid want to put him in Harry's place. You and I are getting along inyears, Jack, and it's time we had some young man getting broke to theharness, so that after a while he could take the brunt of things and letus old fellows slack up a bit. "

"We could not expect that of Darrell, " said Mr. Britton. "He is neitherkith nor kin of ours, and when once Nature's ties begin to assertthemselves in his mind, we may find our hold upon him very slight. "

Both men sighed deeply, as though the thought had in some way touched anunpleasant chord. After a pause, Mr. Britton inquired, --

"You have no clue whatever as to Darrell's identity, have you?"

Mr. Underwood shook his head. "Queerest case I ever saw! There wasn't ascrap of paper nor a pen-mark to show who he was. Parkinson, the mineexpert who was on the same train, said he didn't remember seeing himuntil Harry introduced him; he said he supposed he was some friend ofHarry's. Since his sickness I've looked up the conductor on that trainand questioned him, but all he could remember was that he boarded thetrain a little this side of Galena and that he had a ticket through fromSt. Paul. "

"You say this Parkinson was a mine expert; what was he doing out here?"

"He was one of three or four that were here at that time, looking up theAjax for eastern parties. "

"In all probability, " said Mr. Britton, musingly, "Darrell was here onthe same business. "

"If that was his business, he said nothing about it to me, and I wouldhave thought he would, under the circumstances. "

"I wonder whether we could ascertain from the owners of the Ajax whatexperts were out here or expected out here at that time?"

Mr. Underwood smiled grimly. "Not from the former owners, for nobodyknows where they are, though there are some people quite anxious toknow; and not from the present owners, for they are too busy looking fortheir predecessors in interest to think of anything else. "

"Why, has the Ajax really changed owners? Did they find any one to buyit?"

"Yes, a Scotch syndicate bought it. They sent over a man--one of theirown number, I believe, and authorized to act for them--that I guess knewmore about sampling liquors than ores. The Ajax people worked himaccordingly, with the result that the mine was sold at the figurenamed, --one million, half down, you know. The man rushed back to NewYork, to meet a partner whom he had cabled to come over. About ten dayslater they arrived on the ground and began operations at the Ajax. Themill ran for just ten days when they discovered the condition of affairsand shut down, and they have been looking for the former owners eversince. "

Both men laughed, then relapsed into silence. A little later, as Mr. Britton stirred the fire to a brighter glow, he said, while the tendercurves about his mouth deepened, --

"I cannot help feeling that the coming to us of this young man, whoseidentity is wrapped in so much mystery, has some peculiar significanceto each of us. I believe that in some way, whether for good or ill Icannot tell, his life is to be henceforth inseparably linked with ourown lives. He already holds, as you know, a place in each of our heartswhich no stranger has held before, and I have only this to say, David, old friend, that our mutual regard for him, our mutual efforts for hiswell-being, must never lead to any estrangement between ourselves. Wehave been stanch friends for too many years for any one at this latedate to come between us; and you must never envy me my little share inthe boy's friendship. "

The two men had risen and now stood before the fire with clasped hands. 

"I was an old fool to-night, Jack; that was all, " said Mr. Underwood, rather gruffly. "I haven't the knack of saying things that youhave, --never had, --but I'm with you all the time. "

On the forenoon of the following day Darrell was shown the undergroundworkings of the various mines, not excepting the Bird Mine, locatedalmost at the summit of the mountain. This was the newest mine in camp, but, in proportion to its development, the best producer of all. 

After an early dinner there was a private meeting in the reception-roombeyond the office, at which were present only Mr. Underwood, Mr. Britton, and Darrell, and at which Mr. Underwood duly tendered toDarrell the position of assayer in charge at the Camp Bird mill, whichthe latter accepted with a frank and manly gratitude which more thanever endeared him to the hearts of his two friends. In this littleproceeding Mr. Britton purposely took no part, standing before thegrate, his back towards the others, gazing into the fire as thoughabsorbed in his own thoughts. When all was over, however, hecongratulated Darrell with a warmth and tenderness which filled both theheart and the eyes of the latter to overflowing. That night, after theirarrival at The Pines, as Mr. Britton and Darrell took their accustomedstroll, the latter said, --

"Mr. Britton, I feel that I have you to thank for my good fortune ofto-day. You had nothing to say when Mr. Underwood offered me thatposition, but, nevertheless, I believe the offer was made at yoursuggestion. It was, in reality, your kindness, not his. "

"You are partly right and partly wrong, " replied Mr. Britton, smiling. "Never doubt Mr. Underwood's kindness of heart towards yourself. If Ihad any part in that affair, it was only to indicate the channel inwhich that kindness should flow. "

Together they talked of the strange course of events which had finallybrought him and the work for which he was especially adapted together. 

"Do you know, " said Mr. Britton, as they paused on the veranda beforeentering the house, "I am no believer in accident. I believe that of theso-called 'happenings' in our lives, each has its appointed time andmission; and it is not for us to say which is trivial or which isimportant, until, knowing as we are known, we look back upon life as Godsees it. "

_Chapter VIII_

"UNTIL THE DAY BREAK"

A week later Darrell was duly installed at the mining camp. Mr. Brittonhad already left, called on private business to another part of theState. After his departure, life at The Pines did not seem the same toDarrell. He sorely missed the companionship--amounting almost tocomradeship, notwithstanding the disparity of their years--which hadexisted between them from their first meeting, and he was not sorry whenthe day came for him to exchange the comfort and luxury with which thekindness of Mr. Underwood and his sister had surrounded him for therough fare and plain quarters of the mining camp. 

Mrs. Dean, when informed of Darrell's position at the camp, had moststrenuously objected to his going, and had immediately stipulated thathe was to return to The Pines every Saturday and remain until Monday. 

"Of course he's coming home every Saturday, and as much oftener as helikes, " her brother had interposed. "This is his home, and heunderstands it without any words from us. "

On the morning of his departure he realized as never before the depth ofthe affection of his host and hostess for himself, manifesting itself asit did in silent, unobtrusive acts of homely but heartfelt kindness. Asthe storing of Darrell's belongings in the wagon which was to convey himto the camp was about completed, Mrs. Dean appeared, carrying a large, covered basket, with snow-white linen visible between the gaping edgesof the lids. This she deposited within the wagon, saying, as she turnedto Darrell, --

"There's a few things to last you through the week, just so you don'tforget how home cooking tastes. "

And at the last moment there was brought from the stables at Mr. Underwood's orders, for Darrell's use in going back and forth betweenThe Pines and the camp, a beautiful bay mare which had belonged to HarryWhitcomb, and which, having sadly missed her young master, greetedDarrell with a low whinny, muzzling his cheek and nosing his pockets forsugar with the most affectionate familiarity. 

It was a cold, bleak morning. The ground had frozen after a heavy rain, and the wagon jolted roughly over the ruts in the canyon road, makingslow progress. The sky was overcast and straggling snowflakes wanderedaimlessly up and down in the still air. 

Darrell, from his seat beside the driver, turned occasionally to speakto Trix, the mare, fastened to the rear end of the wagon and daintilypicking her way along the rough road. Sometimes he hummed a bit ofhalf-remembered song, but for the most part he was silent. While notattempting any definite analysis of his feelings, he was distinctlyconscious of conflicting emotions. He was deeply touched by the kindnessof Mr. Underwood and Mrs. Dean, and felt a sort of self-condemnationthat he was not more responsive to their affection. He knew that theirhome and hearts were alike open to him; that he was as welcome as one oftheir own flesh and blood; yet he experienced a sense of relief athaving escaped from the unvarying kindliness for which, at heart, he wasprofoundly grateful. Even late that night, in the solitude of hisplainly furnished room, with the wind moaning outside and the snowtapping with muffled fingers against the window pane, he yet exulted ina sense of freedom and happiness hitherto unknown in the brief periodwhich held all he recalled of life. 

The ensuing days and weeks passed pleasantly and swiftly for Darrell. Hequickly familiarized himself with the work which he had in charge, andfrequently found leisure, when his routine work was done, forexperiments and tests of his own, as well as for outside work which cameto him as his skill became known in neighboring camps. His evenings werewell filled, as he had taken up his old studies along the lines ofmineralogy and metallurgy, pushing ahead into new fields of research anddiscovery, studying by night and experimenting by day. Meanwhile, therocky peaks around him seemed beckoning him with their talismanic signs, as though silently challenging him to learn the mighty secrets for ageshidden within their breasts, and he promised himself that with thereturn of lengthening days, he would start forth, a humble learner, tosit at the feet of those great teachers of the centuries. He hadoccasional letters from Mr. Britton, cheering, inspiring, helpful, muchas his presence had been, and in return he wrote freely of his presentwork and his plans for future work. 

Sometimes, when books were closed or the plaintive tones of the violinhad died away in silence, he would sit for hours pondering the strangeproblem of his own life; watching, listening for some sign from out thepast; but neither ray of light nor wave of sound came to him. Hisphysician had told him that some day the past would return, and that theintervening months or years as the case might be, would then doubtlessbe in turn forgotten, and as he revolved this in his mind he formed aplan which he at once proceeded to put into execution. 

On his return one night from a special trip to Ophir he went to his roomwith more than usual haste, and opening a package in which he seemedgreatly interested, drew forth what appeared to be a book, about elevenby fifteen inches in size, bound in flexible morocco and containing somefive or six hundred pages. The pages were blank, however, and boundaccording to an ingenious device which he had planned and given thebinder, by which they could be removed and replaced at will, and, ifnecessary, extra pages could be added. 

For some time he stood by the light, turning the volume over and overwith an expression of mingled pleasure and sadness; then removing someof the pages, he sat down and prepared to write. The new task to whichhe had set himself was the writing of a complete record, day by day, ofthis present life of his, beginning with the first glimmerings ofmemory, faint and confused, in the earliest days of his convalescence atThe Pines. He dipped his pen, then hesitated; how should this strangevolume be inscribed?

Only for a moment; then his pen was gliding rapidly over the spotlesssurface, and the first page, when laid aside, bore the followinginscription:

 "To one from the outer world, whose identity is hidden among the secrets of the past:

 "With the hope that when the veil is lifted these pages may assist him in uniting into one perfect whole the strangely disjointed portions of his life, they are inscribed by

 "JOHN DARRELL. "

Below was the date, and then followed the words, --

 "Until the day break, and the shadows flee away. "

After penning the last words he paused, repeating them, vainly trying torecall when or where he had heard them. They seemed to ring in his earslike a strain of melody wafted from some invisible shore, and blendingwith the minor undertone he caught a note of triumph. They had come tohim like a voice from out the past, but ringing with joyful assurancefor the future; the assurance that the night, however dark, must end ina glorious dawning, in which no haunting shadow would have anabiding-place. 

_Chapter IX_

TWO PORTRAITS

The winter proved to be mild and open, so that Darrell's weekly visitsto The Pines were made with almost unbroken regularity, and to hissurprise he discovered as the months slipped away that, instead of amere obligation which he felt bound to perform, they were becoming asource of pleasure. After a week of unremitting toil and study andcontact with the rough edges of human nature, there was somethingunspeakably restful in the atmosphere of that quiet home; somethingsoothing in the silent, steadfast affection, the depth of which he wasonly beginning to fathom. 

One Saturday evening in the latter part of April Darrell was, as usual, descending the canyon road on his way to The Pines. For weeks the winterhad lingered as though loath to leave, and Darrell, absorbed in work andstudy, had gone his way, hiding his loneliness and suffering so deeplyas to be ofttimes forgotten even by himself, and at all timesunsuspected by those about him. Then, in one night had come the warmbreath of the west winds, and within a few hours the earth wastransformed as though by magic, and the restless longing within hisbreast awoke with tenfold intensity. 

As he rode along he was astounded at the changes wrought in one week. From the southern slopes of the mountains the snow had almostdisappeared and the sunny exposures of the ranges were fast brighteninginto vivid green. The mountain streams had burst their icy fetters and, augmented by the melting snows, were roaring tumultuously down theirchannels, tumbling and plunging over rocky ledges in sheets ofshimmering silver or foaming cascades; then, their mad frolic ended, flowing peacefully through distant valleys onward to the rivers, everchanting the song which would one day blend in the great oceanharmonies. 

The frail flowers, clinging to the rocks and smiling fearlessly up intothe face of the sun, the silvery sheen of the willows along the distantwater-courses, the softened outlines and pale green of buddingcottonwoods in the valleys far below, all told of the newly releasedlife currents bounding through the veins of every living thing. From thelower part of the canyon, the wild, ecstatic song of a robin came to himon the evening breeze, and in the slanting sunbeams myriads of tinymidges held high carnival. The whole earth seemed pulsating with newlife, and tree and flower, bird and insect were filled anew with theunspeakable joy of living. 

Amid this universal baptism of life, what wonder that he felt his ownpulse quicken and the warm life-blood leaping swiftly within his veins!His heart but throbbed in unison with the great heart of Nature, but itsvery beating stifled him as the sense of his own restrictions came backupon him with crushing weight. For one moment he paused, his spiritstruggling wildly against the bars imprisoning it; then, with a looktowards the skies of dumb, appealing anguish, he rode onward, his headbowed, his heart sick with unutterable longing. 

Arriving at The Pines, he received the usual welcome, but neither itsundemonstrative affection nor the restful quiet of the old home couldsoothe or satisfy him that night. But if his host and hostess noted thegloom on his face or his restless manner they made no comments and askedno questions. 

On going upstairs at a late hour he went across the hall to thelibraries in search of a book with which to pass away the time, as hewas unable to sleep. He had no definite book in mind and wanderedaimlessly through both rooms, reading titles in an abstracted manner, until he came at last face to face with the picture of Kate Underwood. 

He had seen it many times without especially observing it, but in hispresent mood it appealed to him as never before. The dark eyes seemedfixed upon his face with a look of entreaty from which he could notescape, and, drawing a chair in front of the easel, he sat down andbecame absorbed in a study of the picture. Heretofore he had consideredit merely the portrait of a very young and somewhat plain girl. Now hewas surprised to find that the more it was studied in detail, the morefavorable was the impression produced. Though childish and immature, there was not a weak line in the face. The nose and mouth wereespecially fine, the former denoting distinct individuality, the lattermarked strength and sweetness of character; and while the upper part ofthe face indicated keen perceptions and quick sympathies, the generalcontour showed a nature strong either to do or to endure. The eyes werelarge and beautiful, but it was not their beauty which riveted Darrell'sattention; it was their look of wistful appeal, of unsatisfied longing, which led him at last to murmur, while his eyes moistened, --

"You dear child! How is it that in your short life, surrounded by allthat love can provide, you have come to know such heart hunger as that?"

Long after he had returned to his room those eyes still haunted him, nor could he banish the conviction that some time, somewhere, in thatyoung life there had been an unfilled void which in some degree, howeverslight, corresponded to the blank emptiness of his own. 

The next morning Darrell attended church with Mrs. Dean. The latter wasa strict church-woman, and Darrell, by way of showing equal courtesy tohost and hostess, usually accompanied her in the morning, devoting theafternoon to Mr. Underwood. 

After lunch he and Mr. Underwood seated themselves in one of the sunnybay-windows for their customary chat, Mrs. Dean having gone to her roomfor the afternoon nap which was as much a part of her Sunday programmeas the morning sermon. 

For a while they talked of the latest developments at the mines, but Mr. Underwood seemed preoccupied, gazing out of the window and frowningheavily. At last, after a long silence, he said, slowly, --

"I expect we're going to have trouble at the camp this season. "

"How is that?" Darrell asked quickly, in a tone of surprise. 

"Oh, it's some of this union business, " the other answered, with agesture of impatience, "and about the most foolish proposition I everheard of, at that. But, " he added, decidedly, "they know my position;they know they'll get no quarter from me. I've steered clear of them sofar; they've let me alone and I've let them alone, but when it comes toa parcel of union bosses undertaking to run my business or make terms tome, I'll fight 'em to a finish, and they know it. "

Darrell, watching the face of the speaker, saw the lines about his mouthharden and his lips settle into a grim smile that boded no good to hisopponents. 

"What do they want--higher wages or shorter hours?" he inquired. 

"Neither, " said Mr. Underwood, shortly, as he re-lighted his pipe. Aftera few puffs he continued:

"As I said before, it's the most foolish proposition I ever heard of. You see, there's five or six camps, all told, in the neighborhood of ourcamp up there. One or two of the lot, like the Buckeye group, forinstance, are run by men that haven't much capital, and I suppose areworking as economically as they can. Anyhow, there's been some kickingover there among the miners about the grub, and the upshot of the wholething is that the union has taken the matter in hand and is going toopen a union boarding-house and take in the men from all the camps atsix bits a day for each man, instead of the regular rate of a dollar aday charged by the mining companies. "

"The scale of wages to remain the same, I suppose, " said Darrell; "sothat means a gain to each man of twenty-five cents a day?"

"Exactly, " said Mr. Underwood. "It means a gain of two bits a day toeach man; it means loss and inconvenience to the companies, and it meansa big pile of money in the pockets of the bosses who are running thething. "

"There are not many of the owners up there that can stand that sort ofthing, " said Darrell, reflectively. 

"Of course they can't stand it, and they won't stand it if they've gotany backbone! Take Dwight and Huntley; they've been to heavy expense inenlarging their mill and have just put up a new boarding-house, andthey're in debt; they can't afford to have all that work and expenditurefor nothing. Now, with us the loss wouldn't be so great as with theothers, for we don't make so much out of our boarding-house. My mottohas always been 'Live and let live, ' and I give my men a goodtable, --just what I'd want for myself if I were in their places. Itisn't the financial part that troubles me. What I object to is this: Iwon't have my men tramping three-quarters of a mile for meals that won'tbe as good as they can get right on their own grounds; more than that, I've got a good, likely set of men, and I won't have them demoralized byherding them in with the tough gangs from those other camps; and aboveall and once for all, "--here Mr. Underwood's tones became excited as heexclaimed, with an oath, --"I've always been capable of running my ownbusiness, and I'll run it yet, and no damned union boss will ever run itfor me!"

"How do the men feel about it? Have you talked with them?" Darrellinquired. 

"There isn't one of them that's dissatisfied or would leave of his ownfree will, " Mr. Underwood replied, "but I don't suppose they would dareto stand out against the bosses. Why, man, if the workingmen only knewit, they are ten times worse slaves to the union bosses than ever theywere to corporations. They have to pay over their wages to let thosefellows live like nabobs; they have to come and go at their beck andcall, and throw up good positions and live in enforced idleness becauseof some other fellows' grievances; they don't dare express an opinion orsay their souls are their own. Humph!"

"Mr. Underwood, " said Darrell, who had been smilingly listening to theother's tirade, "what will you do if this comes to a strike?"

"Strike!" he exclaimed in tones of scathing contempt. "Strike? I'llstrike too, and they'll find I can strike just as hard as they can, anda little harder!"

"Will you close down?"

The shrewd face grew a bit shrewder. "If it's necessary to close down, "he remarked, evasively, "I'll close down. I guess I can stand it as longas they can. Those mines have lain there in those rocks idle forcenturies, for aught that I know; 'twon't hurt 'em to lie idle a fewweeks or months now; nobody'll run off with 'em, I guess. "

Darrell laughed aloud. "Well, one thing is certain, Mr. Underwood; I, for one, wouldn't want to quarrel with you!"

Mr. Underwood slowly shook his head. "You'd better not try it, my boy;you'd better not!"

"When do you expect this trouble to come to a head?" Darrell asked atlength. 

"Some time in the early part of July, probably; they expect to get theirarrangements completed by that time. "

A long silence followed; Mrs. Dean came softly into the room and tookher accustomed seat, and, as Mr. Underwood made it a point never to talkof business matters in his sister's presence, nothing more was saidregarding the prospective disturbance at the mines. 

After dinner the beauty of the sunset brought them out upon the veranda. The air was warm and fragrant with the breath of spring. The buds wereswelling on the lilacs near the house, and out on the lawn, beyond thedriveway, millions of tiny spears of living green trembled in the lightbreeze. 

"David, " said Mrs. Dean, presently, "have you shown Mr. Darrell thatpicture of Katherine that came yesterday?"

"I declare! No; I had forgotten it!" Mr. Underwood exclaimed. 

"It's well for you she isn't here to hear you say that!" Mrs. Deanremarked, smiling. 

"Puss knows her old father well enough to know he wouldn't forget hervery long. Bring the picture out, Marcia. "

Darrell heard Mrs. Dean approaching, and turned, with the glory of thesunset in his eyes. 

"Don't you want to see Katherine's new picture?" she inquired. 

Her words instantly recalled the portrait he had studied the precedingnight, and with that in his mind he took the picture she handed him andsilently compared the two. 

Ah, the beauty of the spring, everywhere confronting him, was in thatface also; the joy of a life as yet pure, untainted, and untrammelled. It was like looking into the faces of the spring flowers which reflectonly the sunshine, the purity and the sweetness of earth. There was atouch of womanly dignity, too, in the poise of the head, but thebeautiful eyes, though lighted with the faint dawn of coming womanhood, were the same as those that had appealed to him the night before withtheir wistful longing. 

"It is a fine portrait, but as I do not remember her, I cannot judgewhether it is like herself or not, " he said, handing the picture to Mr. Underwood, who seemed almost to devour it with his eyes, though he spokeno word and not a muscle moved in his stern, immobile face. 

"She is getting to be such a young lady, " remarked Mrs. Dean, "that Iexpect when she comes home we will feel as though she had grown awayfrom us all. "

"She will never do that, Marcia, never!" said Mr. Underwood, brusquely, as he abruptly left the group and went into the house. 

There was a moment's silence, then Mrs. Dean said, in a low tone, --

"She is getting to look just like her mother. I haven't seen David soaffected since his wife died as he was when that picture cameyesterday. "

Darrell bowed silently, in token that he understood. 

"She was a lovely woman, but she was very different from any of ourfolks, " she added, with a sigh, "and I guess Katherine is going to bejust like her. "

"When is Miss Underwood expected home?" Darrell inquired. 

"About the last of June, " was the reply. 

Long after the sun had set Darrell paced up and down the veranda, pausing at intervals to gaze with unseeing eyes out over the peacefulscene below him, his only companions his own troubled thoughts. Theyoung moon was shining, and in its pale radiance his set face gleamedwhite like marble. 

Like, and yet unlike, it was to the face of the sleeper journeyingwestward on that summer afternoon eight months before. Experience, themighty sculptor, was doing his work, and doing it well; only a few linesas yet, here and there, and the face was already stronger, finer. But itwas the face of one hardened by his own sufferings, not softened by thesufferings of others. The sculptor's work was as yet only begun. 

_Chapter X_

THE COMMUNION OF TWO SOULS

Gradually the springtide crept upward into the heart of the mountains, quickening the pulses of the rocks themselves until even the mosses andlichens slumbering at their feet awakened to renewed life. Bits of greenappeared wherever a grass root could push its way through the rockysoil, and fragile wild flowers gleamed, starlike, here and there, fed bytiny rivulets which trickled from slowly melting snows on the summitsfar above. 

With the earliest warm days Darrell had started forth to explore thesurrounding mountains, eager to learn the secrets which they seemed everchallenging him to discover. New conditions confronted him, sometimesbaffling him, but always inciting to renewed effort. His enthusiasm wasso aroused that often, when his day's work was done, taking a lightlunch with him, he pursued his studies while the daylight lasted, walking back in the long twilight, and in the solitude of his roommaking full notes of the results of that day's research before retiringfor the night. 

Returning one evening from one of these expeditions he saw, pacing backand forth before the office building, a figure which he at oncerecognized as that of Mr. Britton. Instantly all thought of work orweariness was forgotten, and he hastened forward, while Mr. Britton, catching sight of Darrell rapidly approaching, turned and came down theroad to meet him. 

"A thousand welcomes!" Darrell cried, as soon as they were withinspeaking distance; "say, but this is glorious to see you here! How longhave I kept you waiting?"

"A few hours, but that does not matter; it does us good to have to stopand call a halt on ourselves once in a while. How are you, my son?" Andas the two grasped hands the elder man looked searchingly through thegathering dusk into the face of the younger. Even in the dim twilight, Darrell could feel that penetrating glance reading his inmost soul. 

"I am well and doing well, " he answered; "my physical health is perfect;as for the rest--your coming is the very best thing that could havehappened. Are you alone?" he asked, eagerly, "or did Mr. Underwood comewith you?"

"I came alone, " Mr. Britton replied, with quiet emphasis, linking hisarm within Darrell's as they ascended the road together. 

"How long have you been in town?"

"But two days. I am on my way to the coast, and only stopped off for afew days. I shall spend to-morrow with you, go back with you Saturday toThe Pines, and go on my way Monday. "

Having made his guest as comfortable as possible in his own room, Darrell laid aside his working paraphernalia, his hammer, and bag ofrock specimens, and donning a house coat and pair of slippers seatedhimself near Mr. Britton, all the time conscious of the close but kindlyscrutiny with which the latter was regarding him. 

"This is delightful!" he exclaimed; "but it is past my comprehension howMr. Underwood ever let you slip off alone!"

Mr. Britton looked amused. "I told him I was coming to see you, and Ithink he intended coming with me till he heard me order my saddle-horsefor the trip. I think that settled the matter. I believe there can be noperfect interchange of confidence except between two. The presence of athird party--even though a mutual friend--breaks the magnetic circuitand weakens the current of sympathy. Our interviews are necessarilyrare, and I want to make the most of them; therefore I would come to youalone or not at all. "

"Yes, " Darrell replied; "your visits are so rare that every moment isprecious to me, and think of the hours I lost by my absence to-day!"

"Do you court Dame Nature so assiduously every day, subsisting on coldlunches and tramping the mountains till nightfall?"

"Not every day, but as often as possible, " Darrell replied, smiling. 

"And I suppose if I were not here you would now be burrowing into thatpile over there?" Mr. Britton said, glancing significantly towards thetable covered to a considerable depth with books of reference, note-books, writing-pads, and sheets of closely written manuscript. 

"Let me show you what I am doing; it will take but a moment, " saidDarrell, springing to his feet. 

He drew forth several sets of extensive notes on researches andexperiments he was making along various lines of study, in which Mr. Britton became at once deeply interested. 

"You have a good thing here; stick to it!" he said at length, looking upfrom the perusal of Darrell's geological notes, gathered from hisstudies of the rock formations in that vicinity. "You have a fine fieldin which to pursue this branch, and with the knowledge you already haveon this subject and the discoveries you are likely to make, you may beable to make some very valuable contributions to the science one ofthese days. "

"That is just what I hope to do!" exclaimed Darrell eagerly; "just whatI am studying for day and night!"

"But you must use moderation, " said Mr. Britton, smiling at the youngerman's enthusiasm; "you are young, you have years before you in which todo this work, and this constant study, night and day, added to yourregular routine work, is too much for you. You are looking faggedalready. "

"If I am, it is not the work that is fagging me, " Darrell replied, quickly, his tones becoming excited; "Mr. Britton, I must work; I mustaccomplish all I can for two reasons. You say I have years before me inwhich to do this work. God knows I hope I haven't got to work years likethis, --only half alive, you might say, --and when the change comes, if itever does, you know, of course, I cannot and would not remain here. "

"I understand you would not remain here, " said Mr. Britton slowly, andlaying his hand soothingly on the arm of his agitated companion, "butyou can readily see that not only your education, but your natural trendof thought, is along these lines; therefore, when you are fully restoredto your normal self you will be the more--not the less--interested inthese things, and I predict that no matter when the time comes for youto leave, you will, after a while, return to continue this same line ofwork amid the same surroundings, but, we hope, under far happierconditions. "

Darrell shook his head slowly. "It does not seem to me that I would everwish to return to a place where I had suffered as I have here. "

Mr. Britton smiled, one of his slow, sad, sweet smiles that Darrellloved to watch, that seemed to dawn in his eyes and gradually to spreaduntil every feature was irradiated with a tender, beneficent light. 

"I once thought as you do, " he said, gently, "but after years ofwandering, I find that the place most sacred to me now is that hallowedby the bitterest agony of my life. "

Without replying Darrell unconsciously drew nearer to his friend, and abrief silence followed, broken by Mr. Britton, who inquired, in alighter tone, --

"What is the other reason for your constant application to your work?You said there were two. "

Darrell bowed his head upon his hands as he answered in a low, despairing tone, --

"To stop thinking, thinking, thinking; it will drive me mad!"

"I have been there, my boy; I know, " Mr. Britton responded; then, aftera pause, he continued:

"Something in the tenor of your last letter made me anxious to come toyou. I thought I detected something of the old restlessness. Has thecoming of spring, quickening the life forces all around you, stirred thelife currents in your own veins till your spirit is again tugging at itsfetters in its struggles for release?"

With a startled movement Darrell raised his head, meeting the clear eyesfixed upon him. 

"How could you know?" he demanded. 

"Because, as Emerson says, 'the heart in thee is the heart of all. 'There are few hearts whose pulses are not stirred by the magic influenceof the springtide, and under its potent spell I knew you would feel yourpresent limitations even more keenly than ever before. "

"Thank God, you understand!" Darrell exclaimed; then continued, passionately: "The last three weeks have been torture to me if I butallowed myself one moment's thought. Wherever I look I see life--life, perfect and complete in all its myriad forms--the life that is denied tome! This is not living, --this existence of mine, --with brain shackled, fettered, in many ways helpless as a child, knowing less than a child, and not even mercifully wrapped in oblivion, but compelled to feel theconstant goading and galling of the fetters, to be reminded of them atevery turn! My God! if it were not for constant work and study I wouldgo mad!"

In the silence which followed Darrell's mind reverted to that autumn dayon which he had first met John Britton and confided to him his trouble;and now, as then, he was soothed and strengthened by the presence besidehim, by the magnetism of that touch, although no word was spoken. 

As he reviewed their friendship of the past months he became consciousfor the first time of its one-sidedness. He had often unburdened himselfto his friend, confiding to him his griefs, and receiving in turnsympathy and counsel; but of the great, unknown sorrow that had wroughtsuch havoc in his own life, what word had John Britton ever spoken? AsDarrell recalled the bearing of his friend through all theiracquaintance and his silence regarding his own sufferings, his eyes grewdim. The man at his side seemed, in the light of that revelation, stronger, grander, nobler than ever before; not unlike to the giantpeaks whose hoary heads then loomed darkly against the starlit sky, calm, silent, majestic, giving no token of the throes of agony which, ages agone, had rent them asunder except in the mystic symbols graven ontheir furrowed brows. In that light his own complaints seemed puerile. At that moment Darrell was conscious of a new fortitude born within hissoul; a new purpose, henceforth to dominate his life. 

A heavy sigh from Mr. Britton broke the silence. "I know the fetters aregalling, " he said, "but have patience and hope, for, at the timeappointed, the shackles will be loosened, the fetters broken. "

Darrell faced his companion, a new light in his eyes but recently sodark with despair, as he asked, earnestly and tenderly, --

"Dearest and best of friends, is there no time appointed for the liftingof the burden borne so nobly and uncomplainingly, 'lo, these manyyears?'"

With a grave, sweet smile the elder man shook his head, and, rising, began pacing up and down the room. "There are some burdens, my son, thattime cannot lift; they can only be laid down at the gates of eternity. "

With a strange, choking sensation in his throat Darrell rose, and, goingto the window, stood looking out at the dim outlines of the neighboringpeaks. Their vast solitude no longer oppressed him as at the first; itcalmed and soothed him in his restless moods, and to-night those grimmonarchs dwelling in silent fellowship seemed to him the embodiment ofpeace and rest. 

After a time Mr. Britton paused beside him, and, throwing his arm abouthis shoulders, asked, --

"What are your thoughts, my son?"

"Only a whim, a fancy that has taken possession of me the last few days, since my wanderings among the mountains, " he answered, lightly; "alonging to bury myself in some sort of a retreat on one of these oldpeaks and devote myself to study. "

"And live a hermit's life?" Mr. Britton queried, with a peculiar smile. 

"For a while, yes, " Darrell replied, more seriously; "until I havelearned to fight these battles out by myself, and to conquer myself. "

"There are battles, " said the other, speaking thoughtfully, "which arewaged best in solitude, but self is conquered only by association withone's fellows. Solitude breeds selfishness. "

Mr. Britton had resumed his pacing up and down, but a few moments later, as he approached Darrell, the latter turned, suddenly confronting him. 

"My dear friend, " he said, "you have been everything to me; you havedone everything for me; I ask you to do one thing more, --forgive andanswer this question: How have you conquered?"

The look of pain that crossed his companion's face filled Darrell withregret for what he had said, but before he could speak again Mr. Brittonreplied gently, with his old smile, --

"I doubt whether I have yet wholly conquered; but whatever victory ismine, I have won, not in solitude and seclusion, but in association withthe sorrowing, the suffering, the sinning, and in sharing their burdensI found rest from my own. "

He paused a moment, then continued, his glowing eyes holding Darrell asthough under a spell:

"I know not why, but since our first meeting you have given me a newinterest, a new joy in life. I have been drawn to you and I have lovedyou as I thought never again to love any human being, and some day Iwill tell you what I have told no other human being, --the story of mylife. "

On Saturday Mr. Britton and Darrell returned to The Pines. Theincreasing intimacy between them was evident even there. For the lastday or so Mr. Britton had fallen into the habit of addressing Darrell byhis Christian name, much to the latter's delight. For this Mrs. Deanlaughingly called him to account, compelling Mr. Britton to come to hisown defence. 

"'John, '" he exclaimed; "of course I'll call him 'John. ' It seemswonderfully pleasant to me. I've always wanted a namesake, and I canconsider him one. "

"A namesake!" ejaculated Mrs. Dean, smiling broadly; "I wonder ifthere's a poor family or one that's seen trouble of any kind anywherearound here that hasn't a 'John Britton' among its children! I shouldthink you had namesakes enough now!"

"One might possibly like to have one of his own selection, " he replied, dryly. 

As Darrell took leave of Mr. Britton the following Monday morning thelatter said, --

"By the way, John, whenever you are ready to enter upon that hermit lifelet me know; I'll provide the hermitage. "

"Are you joking?" Darrell queried, unable to catch his meaning. 

"Never more serious in my life, " he replied, with such unusual gravitythat Darrell forbore to question further. 

_Chapter XI_

IMPENDING TROUBLE

The five or six weeks following Mr. Britton's visit passed so swiftlythat Darrell was scarcely conscious of their flight. His work at themill, which had been increased by valuable strikes recently made in themines, in addition to considerable outside work in the way of attestsand assays, had left him little time for study or experiment. For nearlythree weeks he had not left the mining camp, the last two Saturdayshaving found him too weary with the preceding week's work to undertakethe long ride to Ophir. 

During this time Mr. Underwood had been a frequent visitor at the camp, led not only by his interest in the mining developments, but also by hiscuriosity regarding the progress made by the union in the constructionof its boarding-house, and also to watch the effect on his ownemployees. 

Entering the laboratory one day after one of his rounds of the camp, hestood for some time silently watching Darrell at his work. 

"In case of a shut-down here, " he said at length, speaking abruptly, "how would you like a clerical position in my office down there atOphir, --book-keeping or something of the sort, --just temporarily, youknow?"

Darrell looked up from his work in surprise. "Do you regard a shut-downas imminent?" he inquired, smiling. 

"Well, yes; there's no half-way measures with me. No man that works forme will go off the grounds for his meals. But that isn't answering myquestion. "

Darrell's face grew serious. "You forget, Mr. Underwood, that until I amput to the test, I have no means of knowing whether or not I can do thework you wish done. "

"By George! I never once thought of that!" Mr. Underwood exclaimed, somewhat embarrassed, adding, hastily, "but then, I didn't meanbook-keeping in particular, but clerical work generally; copyinginstruments, looking up records, and so on. You see, it's like this, " hecontinued, seating himself near Darrell; "I'm thinking of taking in apartner--not in this mining business, it has nothing to do with that, but just in my mortgage-loan business down there; and in case I do, we'll need two or three additional clerks and book-keepers, and Ithought you might like to come in just temporarily until we resumeoperations here. Of course, the salary wouldn't be so very much, but Ithought it might be better than nothing to bridge over. "

"How long do you expect to be closed down here, Mr. Underwood?"

"Until the men come to their senses or we find others to take theirplaces, " the elder man answered, decidedly; "it may be six weeks or itmay be six months. I was talking with Dwight, from the Buckeye Camp, this morning. He says they've been to too much expense to put up withthe proposition for a moment; they simply can't stand it, and won't;they'll shut down and pull out first. I don't believe that mine ispaying very well, anyway. "

"Mr. Underwood, " said Darrell, slowly, "if this were a question ofaccommodation to yourself, of coming into your office and helping youout personally, I would gladly do it; salary would be no object; but totake a merely clerical position for an indefinite time when I have agood, lucrative profession does not seem to me a very wise policy. Theremust be plenty of assaying to be done in Ophir; why couldn't Itemporarily open an office there?"

"I guess there's no reason why you couldn't if you want to, " Mr. Underwood replied, evidently disappointed by Darrell's reply and eyinghim sharply, "and if you want to open up an office of your own there'splenty of room for you in our building. You know the building wasformerly occupied by one of Ophir's wildcat banks that collapsed in thegeneral crash six years ago, and there's a fine lot of private officesin the rear, opening on the side street; one of those rooms fitted upwould be just the place for you. "

"Much obliged, " said Darrell, smiling; "we'll see about it if the timecomes that I need it. Possibly your prospective partner will have usefor all the private offices. "

"I guess I'll have some say about that, " Mr. Underwood returned, gruffly; then, after a short pause, he continued: "I haven't fullydecided about this partnership business. I talked it over with Jack whenhe was here, but he didn't seem to favor the idea; told me that at myage I had better let well enough alone. I told him that I didn't seewhat my age had to do with it, that I was capable of looking after myown interests, partner or no partner, but that I'd no objection tohaving some one else take the brunt of the work while I looked on. "

"Is the man a stranger or an acquaintance?" Darrell inquired. 

"I'm not personally acquainted with him, but he's not exactly astranger, for he's lived in Ophir, off and on, for the last five years. His name is Walcott. He says his father is an Englishman and verywealthy; he himself, I should judge, has some Spanish blood in hisveins. He spends part of his time in Texas, where he has heavy cattleinterests; in fact, has been there for the greater part of the pastyear. He wants to go into the mortgage-loan business, and offers to putin seventy-five thousand and give his personal attention to the businessfor thirty-three and a third per cent. Of the profits. "

"What has been his business in Ophir all these years?"

"Life insurance mostly, I believe; had two offices, one in Ophir and oneat Galena, and has also done some private loan business. "

"What sort of a reputation has he?"

"First-rate. I've made a number of inquiries about him in both places, and nobody has a word to say against him; very quiet, minds his ownbusiness, a man of few words; just about my sort of a man, I shouldjudge, " Mr. Underwood concluded as he rose from his chair. 

"Well, Mr. Underwood, " said Darrell, "whatever arrangements you decideto make, I wish you success. "

"No more than I do you, my boy, in anything your pig-headedness leadsyou into, " Mr. Underwood replied, brusquely, but with a humorous twinklein his eyes. "Confound you!" he added; "I'd help you if you'd give me achance, but maybe it's best to let you 'gang your ain gait. '" And hewalked out of the room before Darrell could reply. 

A moment later he looked in at the door. "By the way, if you're not atThe Pines by five o'clock sharp next Saturday afternoon, Marcia saysshe's going to send an officer up here after you with a writ of habeascorpus, or something of the sort. "

"All right; I'll be there, " Darrell laughed. 

"You'll find the old place a bit brighter than you've seen it yet, forwe had a letter from Puss this morning that she'll be home to-morrow. "

With the last words the door closed and Darrell was left alone with histhoughts, to which, however, he could then give little time. But whenthe day's work was done he went for a stroll, and, seating himself upona large rock, carefully reviewed the situation. 

Hitherto he had given little thought to the impending trouble at thecamp, supposing it would affect himself but slightly; but he nowrealized that a suspension of operations there would mean an entirechange in his mode of living. The prospective change weighed on hissensitive spirits like an incubus. Even The Pines, he dismallyreflected, would no longer seem the same quiet, homelike retreat, sinceit was to be invaded and dominated by a youthful presence between whomand himself there would probably be little congeniality. 

But finally telling himself that these reflections were childish, herose as the last sunset rays were sinking behind the western ranges andthe rosy flush on the summits was fading, and, walking swiftly to hisroom, resolutely buried himself in his studies. 

_Chapter XII_

NEW LIFE IN THE OLD HOME

On the following Saturday, as Darrell ascended the long driveway leadingto The Pines, he was startled at the transformation which the place hadundergone since last he was there. The rolling lawn seemed carpeted withgreen velvet, enlivened here and there with groups of beautiful foliageplants. Fountains were playing in the sunlight, their glistening spraytinted with rainbow lights. Flowers bloomed in profusion, their colorsset off by the gray background of the stone walls of the house. Thesyringas by the bay-windows were bent to the ground with their burden ofsnowy blossoms, whose fragrance, mingled with that of the June roses, greeted him as he approached. He forgot his three weeks' absence and therapid growth in that high altitude; the change seemed simply magical. Then, as he caught a glimpse through the pines of a slender, girlishfigure, dressed in white, darting hither and thither, he wondered nolonger; it was but the fit accompaniment of the young, joyous life whichhad come to the old place. 

As he came out into the open, he saw a young girl romping up and downbefore the house with a fine Scotch collie, and he could not restrain asmile as he recalled Mrs. Dean's oft-repeated declaration that there wasone thing she would never tolerate, and that was a dog or a cat aboutthe house. She had not yet seen him; but when she did, the frolic ceasedand she started towards the house. Then suddenly she stopped, as thoughshe recognized some one or something, and stood awaiting his approach, her lips parted in a smile, two small, shapely hands shading her eyesfrom the sun. As he came nearer, he had time to note the lithe, supplefigure, just rounding into the graceful outlines of womanhood; the full, smiling lips, the flushed cheeks, and the glint of gold in her brownhair; and the light, the beauty, the fragrance surrounding her seemed anappropriate setting to the picture. She was a part of the scene. 

Darrell, of course, had no knowledge of his own age, but at that momenthe felt very remote from the embodiment of youth before him; he seemedto himself to have been suddenly relegated to the background, among theelder members of the family. 

The collie had been standing beside his mistress with his head on oneside, regarding Darrell with a sharp, inquisitive look, and he now brokethe silence, which threatened to prove rather embarrassing, with a shortbark. 

"Hush, Duke!" said the girl, in a low tone; then, as Darrell dismounted, she came swiftly towards him, extending her hand. 

"This is Mr. Darrell, I know, " she said, speaking quite rapidly in aclear, musical voice, without a shade of affectation, "and you probablyknow who I am, so we will need no introduction. "

"Yes, Miss Underwood, " said Darrell, smiling into the beautiful browneyes, "I would have recognized you anywhere from your picture. "

"And you have Trix, haven't you?" she exclaimed, turning to caress themare. "Dear old Trix! Just let her go, Mr. Darrell; she will go to thestables of her own accord and Bennett will take care of her; that wasthe way Harry taught her. Go find Bennett, Trix!"

They watched Trix follow the driveway and disappear around the corner, then both turned towards the house. 

"Auntie is out just now, " said the girl; "she had to go down town, but Iam expecting her back every minute. Will you go into the house, Mr. Darrell, or do you prefer a seat on the veranda?"

"The veranda looks inviting; suppose we sit here, " Darrell suggested. 

They had reached the steps leading to the entrance. On the top step thecollie had seated himself and was now awaiting their approach with theair of one expecting due recognition. 

"Mr. Darrell, " said the young girl, with a merry little laugh, "allow meto present you to His Highness, the Duke of Argyle!"

The collie gave his head a slight backward toss, and, with greatdignity, extended his right paw to Darrell, which the latter, instantlyentering into the spirit of the joke, took, saying, with much gravity, --

"I am pleased to meet His Highness!"

The girl's brown eyes danced with enjoyment. 

"You have made a friend of him for life, now, " she said as they seatedthemselves, Duke stationing himself at her side in such a manner as toshow his snow-white vest and great double ruff to the best possibleadvantage. "He is a very aristocratic dog, and if any one fails to showhim what he considers proper respect, he is greatly affronted. "

"He certainly is a royal-looking fellow, " said Darrell, "but I cannotimagine how you ever gained Mrs. Dean's consent to his presence here. You must possess even more than the ordinary powers of femininepersuasion. "

"Aunt Marcia?" laughed the girl; "oh, well, you see it was a case of'love me, love my dog. ' Wherever I go, Duke must go, so auntie had tosubmit to the inevitable. "

Darrell found the situation far less embarrassing than he had expected. His young companion, with keen, womanly intuition, had divined somethingof his feeling, and tactfully avoiding any allusion to their previousmeeting, of which he had no recollection, kept the conversation onsubjects within the brief span of his memory. She seemed altogetherunconscious of the peculiar conditions surrounding himself, and thebrown eyes, meeting his own so frankly, had in their depths nothing ofthe curiosity or the pity he had so often encountered, and had grown todread. She appeared so childlike and unaffected, and her joyous, rippling laughter proved so contagious, that unconsciously the extrayears which a few moments before seemed to have been added to his lifedropped away; the grave, tense lines of his face relaxed, and before hewas aware he was laughing heartily at the account of some school-girlescapade or at some tricks performed by Duke for his especialentertainment. 

In the midst of their merriment they heard the sound of hoof-beats, and, turning, saw the family carriage approaching, containing both Mr. Underwood and his sister. 

"You two children seem to be enjoying yourselves!" was Mr. Underwood'scomment as the carriage stopped. 

Darrell sprang to Mrs. Dean's assistance as she alighted, while KateUnderwood ran down the steps to meet her father. Both greeted Darrellwarmly, but Mrs. Dean retained his hand a moment as she looked at himwith genuine motherly interest. 

"I'm glad the truant has returned, " she said, with her quiet smile; "Ionly hope it seems as good to you to come home as it does to us to haveyou here!"

Darrell was touched by her unusual kindness. "You can rest assured thatit does, mother, " he said, earnestly. He was astonished at the effect ofhis words: her face flushed, her lips trembled, and as she passed oninto the house her eyes glistened with tears. 

Darrell looked about him in bewilderment. "What have I said?" hequestioned; "how did I wound her feelings?"

"She lost a son years ago, and she's never got over it, " Mr. Underwoodexplained, briefly. 

"You did not hurt her feelings--she was pleased, " Kate hastened toreassure him; "but did she never speak to you about it?"

"Never, " Darrell replied. 

"Well, that is not to be wondered at, for she seldom alludes to it. Hedied years ago, before I can remember, but she always grieves for him;that was the reason, " she added, reflectively, half to herself, "thatshe always loved Harry better than she did me. "

"Better than you, you jealous little Puss!" said her father, pinchingher cheek; "don't you have love enough, I'd like to know?"

"I can never have too much, you know, papa, " she answered, veryseriously, and Darrell, watching, saw in the brown eyes for the firsttime the wistful look he had seen in the two portraits. 

She soon followed her aunt, but her father and Darrell remained outsidetalking of business matters until summoned to dinner. On entering thehouse Darrell saw on every hand evidences of the young life in the oldhome. There was just a pleasant touch of disorder in the rooms he hadalways seen kept with such precision: here a bit of unfinishedembroidery; there a book open, face down, just where the fair reader hadleft it; the piano was open and sheets of music lay scattered over it. From every side came the fragrance of flowers, and in the usually sombredining-room Darrell noted the fireplace nearly concealed by palms andpotted plants, the chandelier trimmed with trailing vines, the epergneof roses and ferns on the table, and the tiny boutonnières at his plateand Mr. Underwood's. With a smile of thanks at the happy young faceopposite, he appropriated the one intended for himself, but Mr. Underwood, picking up the one beside his plate, sat twirling it in hisfingers with a look of mock perplexity. 

"Puss has introduced so many of her folderols I haven't got used to themyet, " he said. "How is this to be taken, --before eating, or after?" heinquired, looking at her from under heavy, frowning brows. 

"To be taken! Oh, papa!" she ejaculated; "why don't you put it on as Mr. Darrell has his? Here, I'll fix it for you!"

With an air of resignation he waited while she fastened the flowers inthe lapel of his coat, giving the latter an approving little pat as shefinished. 

"There!" she exclaimed; "you ought to see how nice you look!"

"H'm! I'm glad to hear it, " he grunted; "I feel like a prize steer at acounty fair!"

In the laughter which followed Kate joined as merrily as the rest, andno one but Darrell observed the deepening flush on her cheek or heardthe tremulous sigh when the laughter was ended. 

After dinner they adjourned to the large sitting-room, Mr. Underwoodwith his pipe, Mrs. Dean with her knitting, and Darrell, whileconversing with the former, watched with a new interest the latter'splacid face, wondering at the depth of feeling concealed beneath thatcalm exterior. 

As the twilight deepened and conversation began to flag, there came fromthe piano a few sweet chords, followed by one of Chopin's dreamynocturnes. Mr. Underwood began to doze in his chair, and Darrell satsilent, his eyes closed, his whole soul given up to the spell of themusic. Unconscious of the pleasure she was giving, Kate played till theroom was veiled in darkness; then going to the fireplace she lighted thefire already laid--for the nights were still somewhat chilly--and satdown on a low seat before the fire, while Duke came and lay at her feet. It was a pretty picture; the young girl in white, her eyes fixeddreamily on the glowing embers, the firelight dancing over her form andface and lighting up her hair with gleams of gold; the dog at her feet, his head thrown proudly back, and his eyes fastened on her face with alook of loyal devotion seldom seen even in human eyes. 

Happening to glance in Mr. Underwood's direction Darrell saw pride, pleasure, and pain struggling for the mastery in the father's face as hewatched the picture in the firelight. Pain won, and with a suddengesture of impatience he covered his eyes with his hand, as though toshut out the scene. It was but a little thing, but taken in connectionwith the incident before dinner, it appealed to Darrell, showing, as itdid, the silent, stoical manner in which these people bore their grief. 

Mrs. Dean's quiet voice interrupted his musings and broke the spellwhich the music seemed to have thrown around them. 

"You will have some one now, Katherine, to accompany you on the violin, as you have always wanted; Mr. Darrell is a fine violinist. "

Kate was instantly all animation. "Oh, that will be delightful, Mr. Darrell!" she exclaimed, eagerly; "there is nothing I enjoy so much as aviolin accompaniment; it adds so much expression to the music. I think apiano alone is so unsympathetic; you can't get any feeling out of it!"

"I'm afraid, Miss Underwood, I will prove a disappointment to you, "Darrell replied; "I have never yet attempted any new music, or even toplay by note, and don't know what success I would have, if any. So far Ihave only played what drifts to me--some way, I don't know how--from outof the past. "

The unconscious sadness in his voice stirred the depths of Kate's tenderheart. "Oh, that is too bad!" she exclaimed, quickly, thinking, not ofher own disappointment, but of his trouble of which she had unwittinglyreminded him; then she added, gently, almost timidly, --

"But you will, at any rate, let me hear you play, won't you?"

"Certainly, if it will give you any pleasure, " he replied, with a slightsmile. 

"Very well; then we will arrange it this way, " she continued, hercheerful manner restored; "you will play your music, and, if I amfamiliar with it, I will accompany you on the piano. I will get outHarry's violin to-morrow, and while auntie is taking her nap and papa isengaged, we will see what we can accomplish in a musical way. "

Before Darrell could reply, Mr. Underwood, who had started from hisrevery, demanded, --

"What engagement are you talking about, you chatterbox?"

"I can't say, papa, " she replied, playfully seating herself on the armof his chair; "I only know that when I asked your company for a walkto-morrow afternoon, you pleaded a very important engagement. Now, howis that?" she asked archly; "have you an engagement, really, or didn'tyou care for my society?"

"Why, yes, to be sure; it had escaped my mind for the moment, " herfather answered, rather vaguely she thought; then, looking at Darrell, he said, --

"Walcott is coming to-morrow for my final decision in that matter. "

Darrell bowed in token that he understood, but did not feel at libertyto inquire whether the decision was to be favorable to Mr. Walcott, orotherwise. Kate glanced quickly from one to the other, but before shecould speak her father continued:

"I rather think if he consents to two or three conditions which I shallinsist upon, that my answer will be in the affirmative. "

"I thought that quite probable from your conversation the other day, "Darrell replied. 

"See here, papa!" Kate exclaimed, mischievously, "you needn't talk overmy head! You used to do so when I was little, but you can't any longer, you know. Who is this 'Walcott, ' and what is this important decisionabout?"

Mr. Underwood, who did not believe in taking what he called the "womenfolks" into his confidence regarding business affairs, lookedquizzically into the laughing face beside him. 

"Didn't I hear you arranging some sort of a musical programme with Mr. Darrell?" he inquired. 

"Yes; what has that to do with your engagement?" she queried. 

"Nothing whatever; only you carry out your engagement and I will mine, and we'll compare notes afterwards. "

For an instant her face sobered; then catching sight of her father'seyes twinkling under their beetling brows, she laughingly withdrew fromhis side, saying, --

"That's all very well; you can score one this time, papa, but don't youthink we won't come out pretty near even in the end!"

Upon learning from Darrell that the violin she expected him to use wasin his room at the mining camp, she then proposed a stroll to the summitof the pine-clad mountain for the following afternoon, and havingsecured his promise that he would bring the violin with him on his nextvisit, she waltzed gayly across the floor, turned on the light, andseating herself at the piano soon had the room ringing with music andlaughter while she sang a number of college songs. 

To Darrell she seemed more child than woman, and he was constantlyimpressed with her unlikeness to her father or aunt. She seemed to haveabsolutely none of their self-repression. Warm-hearted, sympathetic, anddemonstrative, every shade of feeling betrayed itself in her sensitive, mobile face and in the brown eyes, one moment pensive and wistful, thenext luminous with sympathy or dancing with merriment. 

As Darrell took leave of Mrs. Dean that night, he said, looking franklyinto her calm, kindly face, --

"I am very sorry if I wounded your feelings this afternoon; it waswholly unintentional, I assure you. "

"You did not in the least, " she answered; "it is so long since I havebeen called by that name it took me by surprise, but it sounded verypleasant to me. My boy, if he had lived, would have been just about yourage. "

"It seemed pleasant to me to call you 'mother, '" said Darrell; "it mademe feel less like an outsider. "

"You can call me so as often as you wish; you are no outsider here; weconsider you one of ourselves, " she responded, with more warmth in hertones than he had ever heard before. 

The following morning Darrell accompanied the ladies to church. Afterlunch he lounged for an hour or more in one of the hammocks on theveranda, listening alternately to Mr. Underwood's comments as heleisurely smoked his pipe, and to the faint tones of a mandolin comingfrom some remote part of the house. Mr. Underwood grew more and moreabstracted, the mandolin ceased, and Darrell, soothed by hissurroundings to a temporary forgetfulness of his troubles, swung gentlyback and forth in a sort of dreamy content. After a while, KateUnderwood appeared, dressed for a walk, and, accompanied by Duke, thetwo set forth for their mountain ramble, for the time as light-heartedas two children. 

Upon their return, two or three hours later, while still at a littledistance from the house, they saw Mr. Underwood and a stranger standingtogether on the veranda. The latter, who was apparently about to takehis departure, and whom Darrell at once assumed to be Mr. Walcott, wasabout thirty years of age, of medium height, with a finely proportionedand rather muscular form, erect and dignified in his bearing, with alithe suppleness and grace in all his movements. He was standing withhis hat in his hand, and Darrell, who had time to observe him closely, noting his jet-black hair, close cut excepting where it curled slightlyover his forehead, his black, silky moustache, and the oval contour ofhis olive face, remembered Mr. Underwood's remark of the probability ofSpanish blood in his veins. 

As they came near, Duke gave a low growl, but Kate instantly hushed him, chiding him for his rudeness. At the sound, the stranger turned towardsthem, and Mr. Underwood at once introduced Mr. Walcott to his daughterand Mr. Darrell. He greeted them both with the most punctiliouscourtesy, but as he faced Darrell, the latter saw for an instant in thehalf-closed, blue-black eyes, the pity tinged with contempt to which hehad long since become accustomed, yet which, as often as he met it, thrilled him anew with pain. The look passed, however, and Mr. Walcott, in low, well-modulated tones, conversed pleasantly for a few momentswith the new-comers, the three young people forming a striking trio asthey stood there in the bright sunshine amid the June roses; then, witha graceful adieu, he walked swiftly away. 

As soon as he was out of hearing Mr. Underwood, turning to Darrell, said, --

"It is decided; the papers will be drawn to-morrow. "

Then taking his daughter's flushed, perplexed face between his hands, hesaid, --

"Mr. Walcott and I are going into partnership; how do you like the looksof my partner, Puss?"

She looked incredulous. "That young man your partner!" she exclaimed;"why, he seems the very last man I should ever expect you to fancy!"Then she added, laughing, --

"Oh, papa, I think he must have hypnotized you! Does Aunt Marcia know?May I tell her?" And, having gained his consent, she ran into the houseto impart the news to Mrs. Dean. 

"That's the woman of it!" said Mr. Underwood, grimly; "they always wantto immediately tell some other woman! But what do you think of mypartner?" he asked, looking searchingly at Darrell, who had not yetspoken. 

Darrell did not reply at once; he felt in some way bewildered. All thecontent, the joy, the sunshine of the last few hours seemed to have beensuddenly blotted out, though he could not have told why. The remembranceof that glance still stung him, but aside from that, he felt his wholesoul filled with an inexplicable antagonism towards this man. 

"I hardly know yet just what I do think of him, " he answered, slowly; "Ihave not formed a definite opinion of him, but I think, as your daughtersays, he somehow seems the last man whom I would have expected you toassociate yourself with. "

Mr. Underwood frowned. "I don't generally make mistakes in people, " hesaid, rather gruffly; "if I'm mistaken in this man, it will be the firsttime. "

Nothing further was said on the subject, though it remained uppermost inthe minds of both, with the result that their conversation was ratherspasmodic and desultory. At the dinner-table, Kate was quick to observethe unusual silence, and, intuitively connecting it in some way with thenew partnership, refrained alike from question or comment regardingeither that subject or Mr. Walcott, while it was a rule with Mrs. Deannever to refer to her brother's business affairs unless he first alludedto them himself. 

The evening passed more pleasantly, as Kate coaxed her father intotelling some reminiscences of his early western life, which greatlyinterested Darrell. Something of the old restlessness had returned tohim, however. He spent a wakeful night, and was glad when morning cameand he could return to his work. 

As he came out of the house at an early hour to set forth on his longride he found Kate engaged in feeding Trix with lumps of sugar. Shegreeted him merrily, and as he started down the avenue he was followedby a rippling laugh and a shower of roses, one of which he caught andfastened in his buttonhole, but on looking back over his shoulder shehad vanished, and only Duke was visible. 

_Chapter XIII_

MR. UNDERWOOD "STRIKES" FIRST

The ensuing days were filled with work demanding close attention andconcentration of thought, but often in the long, cool twilight, whileDarrell rested from his day's work before entering upon the night'sstudy, he recalled his visit to The Pines with a degree of pleasurehitherto unknown. He had found Kate Underwood far different from hisanticipations, though just what his anticipations had been he did notstop to define. There was at times a womanly grace and dignity in herbearing which he would have expected from her portrait and which headmired, but what especially attracted him was her utter lack ofaffectation or self-consciousness. She was as unconscious as a child;her sympathy towards himself and her pleasant familiarity with him werethose of a warm-hearted, winsome child. 

He liked best to recall her as she looked that evening seated by thefireside: the childish pose, the graceful outlines of her formsilhouetted against the light; the dreamy eyes, with their long goldenlashes curling upward; the lips parted in a half smile, and the gleam ofthe firelight on her hair. But it was always as a child that he recalledher, and the thought that to himself, or to any other, she could beaught else never occurred to him. Of young Whitcomb's love for her, ofcourse, he had no recollection, nor had it ever been mentioned in hishearing since his illness. 

Day by day the work at the camp increased, and there also began to beindications of an approaching outbreak among the men. The unionboarding-house was nearing completion; it was rumored that it would beready for occupancy within a week or ten days; the walking delegatesfrom the union could be frequently seen loitering about the camp, especially when the changes in shifts were made, waiting to get wordwith the men, and it was nothing uncommon to see occasional groups ofthe men engaged in argument, which suddenly broke off at the appearanceof Darrell, or of Hathaway, the superintendent. 

So engrossed was Mr. Underwood with the arrangement of details for theinauguration of the new firm of Underwood & Walcott that he was unableto be at the camp that week. On Saturday afternoon Darrell, havinglearned that Hathaway was to be gone over Sunday, and believing it bestunder existing circumstances not to leave the camp, sent Mr. Underwood amessage to that effect, and also informing him of the status of affairsthere. 

Early the following week Mr. Underwood made his appearance at the camp, and if the union bosses had entertained any hope of effecting acompromise with the owner of Camp Bird, as it was known, such hope musthave been blasted upon mere sight of that gentleman's face upon hisarrival. Darrell himself could scarcely restrain a smile of amusement asthey met. Mr. Underwood fairly bristled with defiance, and, after thebriefest kind of a greeting, started to make his usual rounds of thecamp. He stopped abruptly, fumbled in his pocket for an instant, then, handing a dainty envelope to Darrell, hastened on without a word. Darrell saw smiles exchanged among the men, but he preserved the utmostgravity until, having reached his desk, he opened and read the littlenote. It contained merely a few pleasant lines from Kate, expressingdisappointment at his failure to come to The Pines on the precedingSaturday, and reminding him of his promise concerning the violin; butthe postscript, which in true feminine style comprised the real gist ofthe note, made him smile audibly. It ran:

 "Papa has donned his paint and feathers this morning and is evidently starting out on the war-path. I haven't an idea whose scalps he intends taking, but hope you will at least preserve your own intact. "

At dinner Mr. Underwood maintained an ominous silence, replying inmonosyllables to any question or remark addressed to him. He soon leftthe table, and Darrell did not see him again till late in the afternoon, when he entered the laboratory. A glance at the set lines of his facetold Darrell as plainly as words that his line of action was fullydetermined upon, and that it would be as fixed and unalterable as thelaws of the Medes and Persians. 

"I am going home now, " he announced briefly, in reply to Darrell'ssomewhat questioning look; "I'll be back here the last of the week. "

"What do you think of the outlook, Mr. Underwood?" Darrell inquired. 

"It is about what I expected. I have seen all the men. They are, as Isupposed, under the thumb of the union bosses. A few of them realizethat the whole proposition is unreasonable and absurd, and they don'twant to go out, but they don't dare say so above their breath, and theydon't dare disobey orders, because they are owned, body and soul, by theunion. "

"Have any of the leaders tried to make terms?"

"I met one of their 'walking delegates' this morning, " said Mr. Underwood, with scornful emphasis; "I told him to 'walk' himself out ofthe camp or I'd boot him out; and he walked!"

Darrell laughed. Mr. Underwood continued: "The boarding-house opens onThursday; on next Monday every man not enrolled in that institution willbe ordered out. "

"It's to be a strike then, sure thing, is it?" Darrell asked. 

"Yes, there'll be a strike, " Mr. Underwood answered, grimly, while aquick gleam shot across his face; "but remember one thing, " he added, ashe turned to leave the room, "no man ever yet got the drop or the firstblow on me!"

Matters continued about the same at the camp. On Friday favorablereports concerning the new boarding-house began to be circulated, brought the preceding evening by miners from another camp. Some of themen looked sullen and defiant, others only painfully self-conscious, inthe presence of Darrell and the superintendent, but it was evident thatthe crisis was approaching. 

Late Friday night a horseman dismounted silently before the door of theoffice building and Mr. Underwood walked quietly into Darrell's room. 

"How's the new hotel? Overrun with boarders?" he asked, as he seatedhimself, paying little attention to Darrell's exclamation of surprise. 

"Chapman's men--about fifty in all--are the only ones there at present. "

"Chapman!" ejaculated Mr. Underwood; "what is Chapman doing? He agreedto stand in with the rest of us on this thing!"

"He told Hathaway this morning he was only doing it for experiment. Theboarding-house is located near his claims, you know, and he hascomparatively few men. So he said he didn't mind trying it for a monthor so. "

"Confound him! I'll make it the dearest experiment ever he tried, " saidMr. Underwood, wrathfully; "he was in our office the other day trying tonegotiate a loan for twenty-five thousand dollars that he said he hadgot to have within ten days or go to the wall. I'll see that he doesn'tget it anywhere about here unless he stands by his word with us. "

After further conversation Mr. Underwood went out, saying he had alittle business about the camp to attend to. He returned in the courseof an hour, and Darrell heard him holding a long consultation withHathaway before he retired for the night. 

The following morning the mill men of the camp, on going to their work, were astonished to find the mill closed and silent, while fastened onthe great doors was a large placard which read as follows:

 NOTICE. 

 The entire mining and milling plant of Camp Bird is closed down for an indefinite period. All employees are requested to call at the superintendent's office and receive their wages up to and including Saturday, the 10th inst. D. K. UNDERWOOD. 

The miners found the hoist-house and the various shaft-houses closed anddeserted, with notices similar to the above posted on their doors. 

Darrell, upon going to breakfast, learned that Mr. Underwood and thesuperintendent had breakfasted at an early hour. A little later, on hisway to the mill, he observed groups of men here and there, somestanding, some moving in the direction of the office, but gave thematter no particular thought until he reached the mill and was himselfconfronted by the placard. As he read the notice and recalled the groupsof idlers, certain remarks made by Mr. Underwood came to his mind, andhe seemed struck by the humorous side of the situation. 

"The old gentleman seems to have got the 'drop' on them, all right!" hesaid to himself, as, with an amused smile, he walked past the mill andout in the direction of the hoist. The ore-bins were closed and locked, the tram-cars stood empty on their tracks, the hoisting engine wasstill, the hoist-house and shaft-houses deserted. After the ceaselessnoise and activity to which he had become accustomed at the camp thesilence seemed oppressive, and he turned and retraced his steps to theoffice. 

A crowd of men was gathered outside the office building. In single filethey passed into the office to the superintendent's window, receivedtheir money silently, in almost every instance without comment orquestion, and passed out again. Once outside, however, there theyremained, their number constantly augmented by new arrivals, for the menon the night shift had been aroused by their comrades and were nowstreaming down from the bunk-houses. A few laughed and joked, somelooked sullen, some troubled and anxious, but all remained packed aboutthe building, quiet, undemonstrative, and mute as dumb brutes as totheir reason for staying there. They were all prepared to march boldlyout of the mill and mines on the following Monday, on a strike, inobedience to orders; even to resort to violence in defence of theirso-called "rights" if so ordered, but Mr. Underwood's sudden move haddisarmed them; there had been no opportunity for a conference with theirleaders, with the result that they acted more in accordance with theirown individual instincts, and the loss of work for which they would havecared little in the event of a strike was now uppermost in their minds. 

They eyed Darrell furtively and curiously, making way for him as heentered the building, but still they waited. For a few moments Darrellwatched the scene, then he passed through the office into the roombeyond, where he found Mr. Underwood engaged in sorting and filingpapers. The latter looked up with a grim smile:

"Been down to the mill?"

"Oh, yes, " Darrell answered, laughing; "I went to work as usual, only tofind the door shut in my face, the same as the rest. "

"H'm! What do you think of the 'strike' now?"

"I think you are making them swallow their own medicine, but I don't seewhy you need give me a dose of it; I haven't threatened to strike. "

Mr. Underwood's eyes twinkled shrewdly as he replied, "You had better goout there and get your pay along with the rest, and then go to your roomand pack up. You may not be needed at the mill again for the next sixmonths. "

"Will it be as serious as that, do you think?" Darrell inquired. 

Before Mr. Underwood could reply the superintendent opened the officedoor hastily. 

"Mr. Underwood, " he said, "will you come out and speak to the men? Theyare all waiting outside and I can't drive them away; they say they won'tstir till they've seen you. "

With a look of annoyance Mr. Underwood rose and passed out into theoffice; Darrell, somewhat interested, followed. 

"Well, boys, " said Mr. Underwood, as he appeared in the doorway, "whatdo you want of me?"

"If you please, sir, " said one man, evidently spokesman for the crowd, and whom Darrell at once recognized as Dan, the engineer, --"if youplease, sir, we would like to know how long this shut-down is going tolast. "

"Can't tell, " Mr. Underwood replied, shortly; "can't tell anything aboutit at present; it's indefinite. "

"Well, " persisted the man, "there's some of us as thought that mebbe'twould only be till this 'ere trouble about the meals is settled, oneway or t'other; and there's some as thought mebbe it hadn't nothing todo with that. "

"Well?" said Mr. Underwood, impatiently. 

"Well, sir, " said Dan, lowering his voice a little and edging nearer Mr. Underwood, "you know as how the most of us was satisfied with things asthey was, and didn't want no change and wouldn't have made no kick, only, you see, we had to, and we felt kinder anxious to know whether ifthis thing got settled some way and the camp opened up again, whether wecould get back in our old places?"

"Dan, " said Mr. Underwood, impressively, and speaking loudly enough forevery man to hear, "there can be no settlement of this question exceptto have things go on under precisely the same terms and conditions asthey've always gone; so none of your leaders need come to me for terms, for they won't get 'em. And as to opening up the mines and mill, I'llopen them up whenever I get ready, not a day sooner or later; and when Ido start up again, if you men have come to your senses by that time andare ready to come back on the same terms, all right; if not, " he pausedan instant, then added with emphasis, "just remember there'll be others, and plenty of 'em, too. "

"Yes, sir; thank ye, sir, " Dan answered, somewhat dubiously; then oneand all moved slowly and mechanically away. 

Mr. Underwood turned to Darrell. "Get your things together as soon asyou can. I'm going to send down three or four of the teams after dinner, and they can take your things along. And here's the key to the mill; goover and pick out whatever you will want in the way of an assayingoutfit, and have that taken down with the rest. There's no need of yourgoing to the expense of buying an outfit just for temporary use. "

By two o'clock scarcely a man remained at the camp. Mr. Underwood andDarrell were among the last to leave. Two faithful servants of Mr. Underwood's had arrived an hour or so before, who were to act aswatchmen during the shut-down. Having taken them around the camp andgiven them the necessary instructions, Mr. Underwood then gave them thekeys of the various buildings, saying, as he took his departure, --

"There's grub enough in the boarding-house to last you two for sometime, but whenever there's anything needed, let me know. Bring over somebeds from the bunk-house and make yourselves comfortable. "

He climbed to a seat on one of the wagons, and, as they started, turnedback to the watchmen for his parting admonition:

"Keep an eye on things, boys! You're both good shots; if you catchanybody prowling 'round here, day or night, wing him, boys, wing him!"

The teams then rattled noisily down the canyon road, Darrell, with Trix, bringing up the rear, feeling himself a sort of shuttlecock tossed toand fro by antagonistic forces in whose conflicts he personally had nopart and no interest. However, he wasted no moments in useless regrets, but rode along in deep thought, planning for the uninterrupted pursuitof his studies amid the new and less favorable surroundings. Thus far hehad met with unlooked-for success along the line of his researches andexperiments, and each success but stimulated him to more diligent study. 

On their arrival at Ophir, Mr. Underwood gave directions to have theassaying outfit taken to the rooms in the rear of his own offices, afterwhich he and Darrell, with the remaining teams, proceeded in thedirection of The Pines. Trix, on finding herself headed for home, quickened her steps to such a brisk pace that on reaching the longdriveway Darrell was considerably in advance of the others. He had nosooner emerged from the pines into the open, in full view of the house, than Duke came bounding down the driveway to meet him, with everypossible demonstration of joyous welcome. His loud barking brought theladies to the door just as Darrell, having quickly dismounted and sentTrix to the stables, was running up the broad stairs to the veranda, thecollie close at his side. 

"Just look at Duke!" Kate Underwood exclaimed, shaking hands withDarrell; "and this is only the second time he has met you! You surelyhave won his heart, Mr. Darrell. "

"You are the only person outside of Katherine he has ever condescendedto notice, " said Mrs. Dean, with a smile. 

"I assure you I feel immensely flattered by his friendship, " Darrellreplied, caressing the collie; "the more so because I know it to begenuine. "

"He won't so much as look at me, " Mrs. Dean added. 

"That is because you objected at first to having him here, " said Kate;"he knows it, and he'll not forget it. But, Mr. Darrell, where is papa?"

"He will be here directly, " Darrell answered, smiling as he suddenlyrecalled the little note within his pocket; "he is returning from thewar-path with the trophies of victory. "

Kate laughed and colored slightly. "Your own scalp has not suffered, atany rate, " she said. 

"But he has brought me back a captive; here he comes now!"

The wagon loaded with Darrell's belongings was just coming slowly intoview, with Mr. Underwood on the seat beside the driver, the other teamshaving been sent to the stables by another route. 

Darrell noted the surprise depicted on the faces beside him, and, turning to Mrs. Dean, who stood next him, he said, in a low tone, --

"I have come back to the old home, mother, for a little while; is thereroom for me?"

Mrs. Dean looked at him steadily for an instant, while Kate ran to meether father; then she replied, earnestly, --

"There will always be room in the old home for you. I only wish that Icould hope it would always hold you. "

_Chapter XIV_

DRIFTING

Early the following week Darrell was established in his new office. Thebuilding containing the offices of the firm of Underwood & Walcott had, as Mr. Underwood informed Darrell, been formerly occupied by one of theleading banks of Ophir, and was situated on the corner of two of itsprincipal streets. Of the three handsome private offices in the rear Mr. Underwood occupied the one immediately adjoining the general offices;the next, separated from the first by a narrow entrance way, had beenappropriated by Mr. Walcott, while the third, communicating with thesecond and opening directly upon the street, was now fitted up forDarrell's occupancy. The carpets and much of the original furnishing ofthe rooms still remained, but in the preparation of Darrell's room KateUnderwood and her aunt made numerous trips in their carriage between theoffices and The Pines, with the result that when Darrell took possessionmany changes had been effected. Heavy curtains separated that portion ofthe room in which the laboratory work was to be done from that to beused as a study, and to the latter there had been added a rug or two, abookcase in which Darrell could arrange his small library of scientificworks, a cabinet of mineralogical specimens, and a pair of paintingsintended to conceal some of Time's ravages on the once finely decoratedwalls, while palms and blooming plants transformed the large plate-glasswindows into bowers of fragrance and beauty, at the same time forming ascreen from the too inquisitive eyes of passers-by. 

Just as Darrell was completing the arrangement of his effects, Mr. Underwood and his partner sauntered into the room from their apartments. Within a few feet of the door Mr. Underwood came to a stop, his handsdeep in his trousers pockets, his square chin thrust aggressivelyforward, while, with a face unreadable as granite, his keen eyes scannedevery detail in the room. Mr. Walcott, on the contrary, made the entirecircuit of the room, his hands carelessly clasped behind him, his headthrown well back, his every step characterized by a graceful, undulatorymotion, like the movements of the feline tribe. 

"H'm!" was Mr. Underwood's sole comment when he had finished his surveyof the room. 

Mr. Walcott turned towards his partner with a smile. "Mr. Darrell isevidently a prime favorite with the ladies, " he remarked, pleasantly. 

"Well, they don't want to try any of their prime favorite business onme, " retorted Mr. Underwood, as he slowly turned and left the room. 

Both young men laughed, and Walcott, with an easy, nonchalant air, seated himself near Darrell. 

"I find the old gentleman has a keen sense of humor, " he said, stillsmiling; "but some of his jokes are inclined to be a little ponderous attimes. "

"His humor generally lies along the lines of sarcasm, " Darrell replied. 

"Ah, something of a cynic, is he?"

"No, " said Darrell; "he has too kind a heart to be cynical, but he isvery fond of concealing it by sarcasm and brusqueness. "

"He is quite original and unique in his way. I find him really a muchmore agreeable man than I anticipated. You have very pleasant quartershere, Mr. Darrell. I should judge you intended this as a sort of studyas well as an office. "

"I do intend it so. Probably for a while I shall do more studying thananything else, as it may be some time before I get any assaying. "

"I think we can probably throw quite a bit of work your way, as wefrequently have inquiries from some of our clients wanting something inthat line. "

"Walcott, " said Mr. Underwood, re-entering suddenly, "Chapman is outthere; go and meet him. You can conduct negotiations with him on theterms we agreed upon, but I don't care to figure in the deal. If he asksfor me, tell him I'm out. "

"I see; as the ladies say, you're 'not at home, '" said Walcott, smiling, as he sprang quickly to his feet. "Well, Mr. Darrell, " he continued, "Iconsider myself fortunate in having you for so near a neighbor, and Itrust that we shall prove good friends and our relations mutuallyagreeable. "

Darrell's dark, penetrating eyes looked squarely into the half-closed, smiling ones, which met his glance for an instant, then wavered anddropped. 

"I know of no reason why we should not be friends, " he replied, quietly, knowing he could say that much with all candor, yet feeling thatfriendship between them was an utter impossibility, and that of thisWalcott was as conscious as was he himself. 

"Well, my boy, " said Mr. Underwood, seating himself before Darrell'sdesk, "I guess 'twas a good thing you took the old man's advice foronce. I don't know where you would find better quarters than these. "

Darrell smiled. "As to following your advice, Mr. Underwood, you didn'teven give me a chance. You suggested my taking one of these rooms, andthen gave orders on your own responsibility for my paraphernalia to bedeposited here, and there was nothing left for me to do but to settledown. However, " he added, laying some money on the desk before Mr. Underwood, "I have no complaint to make. Just kindly receipt for that. "

"Receipt for this! What do you mean? What is it, anyway?" exclaimed Mr. Underwood, in a bewildered tone. 

"It is the month's rent in advance, according to your custom. "

"Rent!" Mr. Underwood ejaculated, now thoroughly angry; "what do I wantof rent from you? Can't you let me be a friend to you? Time and timeagain I've tried to help you and you wouldn't have it. Now I'll give youwarning, young man, that one of these days you'll go a little too far inthis thing, and then you'll have to look somewhere else for friends, forwhen I'm done with a man, I'm done with him forever!"

"Mr. Underwood, " said Darrell, with dignity, "you are yourself going toofar at this moment. You know I do not refuse favors from you personally. Do I not consider your home mine? Have I ever offered you compensationfor anything that you or your sister have done for me? But this is adifferent affair altogether. "

"Different! I'd like to know wherein. "

"Mr. Underwood, if, in addition to your other kindnesses, you personallyoffered me the use of this room gratis, I might accept it; but I willaccept no favors from the firm of Underwood & Walcott. "

"Humph! I don't see what difference that need make!" Mr. Underwoodretorted. 

He sat silently studying Darrell for a few moments, but the latter'sface was as unreadable as his own. 

"What have you got against that fellow?" he asked at length, curiously. 

"I have nothing whatever against him, Mr. Underwood. "

"But you're not friendly to him. "

Darrell remained silent. 

"He is friendly to you, " continued Mr. Underwood; "he has talked with meconsiderably about you and takes quite an interest in you and in yoursuccess. "

"Possibly, " Darrell answered, dryly; "but you will oblige me by nottalking of me to him. I have nothing against Mr. Walcott; I am neitherfriendly nor unfriendly to him, but he is a man to whom I do not wish tobe under any obligations whatsoever. "

In vain Mr. Underwood argued; Darrell remained obdurate, and when heleft the office a little later he carried with him the receipt ofUnderwood & Walcott for office rent. 

Darrell's reputation as an expert which he had already established atthe mining camp soon reached Ophir, with the result that he was not longwithout work in the new office. For a time he devoted his leisure hoursto unremitting study. The brief but intense summer season of the highaltitudes was now well advanced, however, and in its stifling heat, amidthe noise of the busy little city, and constantly subjected tointerruptions, his scientific studies and researches lost half theircharm. 

And in proportion as they lost their power to interest him the home onthe mountain-side, beyond reach of the city's heat and dust and clamor, drew him with increasing and irresistible force. Never before had itseemed to him so attractive, so beautiful, so homelike as now. He didnot stop to ask himself wherein its new charm consisted or to analyzethe sense of relief and gladness with which he turned his face homewardwhen the day's work was ended. He only felt vaguely that the silent, undemonstrative love which the old place had so long held for him hadsuddenly found expression. It smiled to him from the flowers noddinggayly to him as he passed; it echoed in the tinkling music of thefountains; the murmuring pines whispered it to him as their fragrantbreath fanned his cheek; but more than all he read it in the brown eyeswhich grew luminous with welcome at his approach and heard it in thelow, sweet voice whose wonderful modulations were themselves moreeloquent than words. And with this interpretation of the strange, newjoy day by day permeating his whole life, he went his way in deepcontent. 

And to Kate Underwood this summer seemed the brightest and the fairestof all the summers of her young life; why, she could not have told, except that the skies were bluer, the sunlight more golden, and thebirds sang more joyously than ever before. 

In a mining town like Ophir there was comparatively little society forher, so that most of her evenings were spent at home, and she andDarrell were of necessity thrown much together. Sometimes he joined herin a game of tennis, a ride or drive or a short mountain ramble;sometimes he sat on the veranda with the elder couple, listening whileshe played and sang; but more often their voices blended, while thewild, plaintive notes of the violin rose and fell on the evening airaccompanied by the piano or by the guitar or mandolin. Together theywatched the sunsets or walked up and down the mountain terrace in themoonlight, enjoying to the full the beauty around them, neither as yetdreaming that, --more than their joy in the bloom and beauty andfragrance, in the music of the fountains or the murmuring voices of thepines, in the sunset's glory, or the moonlight's mysticalradiance, --above all, deeper than all, pervading all, was their joy ineach other. Hers was a nature essentially childlike; his very infirmityrendered him in experience less than a child; and so, devoid of worldlywisdom, --like Earth's first pair of lovers, without knowledge of good orevil, --all unconsciously they entered their Eden. 

One sultry Sunday afternoon they sat within the vine-clad veranda, thestrains of the violin and guitar blending on the languorous, perfumedair. As the last notes died away Kate exclaimed, --

"I never had any one accompany me who played with so much expression. You give me an altogether different conception of a piece of music; youseem to make it full of new meaning. "

"And why not?" Darrell inquired. "Music is a language of itself, capableof infinitely more expression than our spoken language. "

"Who is speaking, then, when you play as you did just now--the soul ofthe musician or your own?"

"The musician's; I am only the interpreter. The more perfect the harmonyor sympathy between his soul, as expressed in the music, and mine, thetruer will be the rendering I give. A fine elocutionist will reveal thebeauties of a classic poem to hundreds who, of themselves, might neverhave understood it; but the poem is not his, he is only the poet'sinterpreter. "

"If you call that piece of music which you have just rendered only aninterpretation, " Kate answered, in a low tone, "I only wish that I couldfor once hear your own soul speaking through the violin!"

Darrell smiled. "Do you really wish it?" he asked, after a pause, looking into the wistful brown eyes. 

"I do. "

She was seated in a low hammock, swinging gently to and fro. He sat at alittle distance from her feet, on the topmost of the broad stairs, hisback against one of the large, vine-wreathed columns, Duke stretchedfull length beside him. 

A slight breeze stirred the flower-scented air and set the pineswhispering for a moment; then all was silent. With eyes half closed, Darrell raised the violin and, drawing the bow softly across thestrings, began one of his own improvisos, the exquisite, piercingsweetness of the first notes swelling with an indescribable pathos untilKate could scarcely restrain a cry of pain. Higher and higher theysoared, until above the clouds they poised lightly for an instant, thendescended in a flood of liquid harmonies which alternately rose andfell, sometimes tremulous with hope, sometimes moaning in low undertonesof grief, never despairing, but always with the same heart-rendingpathos, always voicing the same unutterable longing. 

Unmindful of his surroundings, his whole soul absorbed in the music, Darrell played on, till, as the strains sank to a minor undertone, heheard a stifled sob, followed by a low whine from Duke. He glancedtowards Kate, and the music ceased instantly. Unobserved by him she hadleft the hammock and was seated opposite himself, listening as thoughentranced, her lips quivering, her eyes shining with unshed tears, whileDuke, alarmed by what he considered signs of evident distress, lookedanxiously from her to Darrell as though entreating his help. 

"Why, my dear child, what is the matter?" Darrell exclaimed, movingquickly to her side. 

"Oh, " she cried, piteously, "how could you stop so suddenly! It waslike snapping a beautiful golden thread!" And burying her face in herhands, her whole frame shook with sobs. 

Darrell, somewhat alarmed himself, laid his hand on her shoulder in anattempt to soothe her. In a moment she raised her head, the tear-dropsstill glistening on her cheeks and her long golden lashes. 

"It was childish in me to give way like that, " she said, with a smilethat reminded Darrell of the sun shining through a summer shower; "butoh, that music! It was the saddest and the sweetest I ever heard! It wasbreaking my heart, and yet I could have listened to it forever!"

"It was my fault, " said Darrell, regretfully; "I should not have playedso long, but I always forget myself when playing that way. "

Kate's face grew suddenly grave and serious. "Mr. Darrell, " she said, hesitatingly, "I have thought very often about the sad side of yourlife--since your illness, you know; but I never realized till now theterrible loneliness of it all. "

She paused as though uncertain how to proceed. Darrell's face had inturn become grave. 

"Did the violin tell you that?" he asked, gently. 

She nodded silently. 

"Yes, it has been lonely, inexpressibly so, " he said, unconsciouslyusing the past tense; "but I had no right to cause you this suffering byinflicting my loneliness upon you. "

"Do not say that, " she replied, quickly; "I am glad that you toldme, --in the way you did; glad not only that I understand you better andcan better sympathize with you, but also because I believe you canunderstand me as no one else has; for one reason why the music affectedme so much was that it seemed the expression of my own feelings, of myhunger for sympathy all these years. "

"Have there been shadows in your life, then, too? It looked to be allsunshine, " Darrell said, his face growing tender as he saw thetear-drops falling. 

"Yes, it would seem so, with this beautiful home and all that papa doesfor me, and sometimes I'm afraid I'm ungrateful. But oh, Mr. Darrell, ifyou could have known my mother, you would understand! She was sodifferent from papa and auntie, and she loved me so! And it seems asthough since she died I've had nobody to love me. I suppose papa does ina fashion, but he is too busy to show it, or else he doesn't know how;and Aunt Marcia! well, you know she's good as she can be, but if sheloved you, you would never know it. I've wondered sometimes if poormamma didn't die just for want of love; it has seemed lots of times asthough I would!"

"Poor little girl!" said Darrell, pityingly. He understood now thewistful, appealing look of the brown eyes. He intended to say somethingexpressive of sympathy, but the right words would not come. He couldthink of nothing that did not sound stilted and formal. Almostunconsciously he laid his hand with a tender caress on the slenderlittle white hand lying near him, much as he would have laid it on awounded bird; and just as unconsciously, the little hand nestledcontentedly, like a bird, within his clasp. 

A few days later Darrell heard from Walcott the story of HarryWhitcomb's love for his cousin. It had been reported, Walcott said, inlow tones, as though imparting a secret, that young Whitcomb washopelessly in love with Miss Underwood, but that she seemed ratherindifferent to his attentions. It was thought, however, that the oldgentleman had favored the match, as he had given his nephew an interestin his mining business, and had the latter lived and proved himself agood financier, it was believed that Mr. Underwood would in time havebestowed his daughter upon him. 

Darrell listened silently. Of young Whitcomb, of his death, and of hisown part in that sad affair he had often heard, but no mention ofanything of this nature. He sat lost in thought. 

"Of course, you know how sadly the romance ended, " Walcott continued, wondering somewhat at Darrell's silence. "I have understood that youwere a witness of young Whitcomb's tragic death. "

"I know from hearsay, that is all, " Darrell replied, quietly; "I haveheard the story a number of times. "

Walcott expressed great surprise. "Pardon me, Mr. Darrell, for referringto the matter. I had heard something regarding the peculiar nature ofyour malady, but I had no idea it was so marked as that. Is it possiblethat you have no recollection of that affair?"

"None whatever, " Darrell answered, briefly, as though he did not care todiscuss the matter. 

"How strange! One would naturally have supposed that anything soterrible, so shocking to the sensibilities, would have left animpression on your mind never to have been effaced! But I fear thesubject is unpleasant to you, Mr. Darrell; pardon me for having alludedto it. "

The conversation turned, but Darrell could not banish the subject fromhis thoughts. Kate had often spoken to him of her cousin, but never as alover. He recalled his portrait at The Pines; the frank, boyish facewith its winning smile--a bonnie lover surely! Had she, or had she not, he wondered, learned to reciprocate his love before the tragic endingcame? And if not, did she now regret it?

He watched her that evening, fearing to broach a subject so delicate, but pondering long and deeply, till at last she rallied him on hisunusual seriousness, and he told her what he had heard. 

"Yes, " she said, in reply; "Harry loved me, or thought he did; though hewas like the others--he did not understand me any better than they. Buthe had always been just like a brother to me, and I could never haveloved him in any other way, and I told him so. Papa said I would learnin time, and I think perhaps he would have insisted upon it if Harry hadlived. I was sorry I couldn't care for him as he wished; he thought Iwould after a while, but I never could, for I think that kind of love isfar different from all others; don't you, Mr. Darrell?"

And Darrell, looking from the mountain-side where they were standing outinto the deep blue spaces where the stars, one by one, were gliding intosight, answered, reverently, --

"As far above all others 'as the heaven is high above the earth. '"

To him at that instant love--the love that should exist between two who, out of earth's millions, have chosen each the other--seemed something asyet remote; a sacred temple whose golden dome, like some mystic shrine, gleamed from afar, but into which he might some day enter; unaware thathe already stood within its outer court. 

_Chapter XV_

THE AWAKENING

As Darrell was returning home one evening, some ten days later, he heardKate's rippling laughter and sounds of unusual merriment, and, on comingout into view of the house, beheld her engaged in executing a waltz onthe veranda, with Duke as a partner. The latter, in his efforts tooblige his young mistress and at the same time preserve his own dignity, presented so ludicrous a spectacle that Darrell was unable to restrainhis risibility. Hearing his peals of laughter and finding herselfdiscovered, Kate rather hastily released her partner, and the collie, glad to be once more permitted the use of four feet, bounded down thesteps to give Darrell his customary welcome, his mistress followingslowly with somewhat heightened color. 

Darrell at once apologized for his hilarity, pleading as an excuseDuke's comical appearance. 

"We both must have made a ridiculous appearance, " she replied, "but asDuke seems to have forgiven you, I suppose I must, and I think I hadbetter explain such undignified conduct on my part. Auntie has just toldme that she is going to give a grand reception for me two weeks fromto-day, or, really, two of them, for there is to be an afternoonreception from three until six for her acquaintances, with a few youngladies to assist me in receiving; and then, in the evening, I am to havea reception of my own. We are going to send nearly two hundredinvitations to Galena, besides our friends here. Papa is going to havethe ball-room on the top floor fitted up for the occasion, and we areto have an orchestra from Galena, and altogether it will be quite 'theevent of the season. ' Now do you wonder, " she added, archly, "that Iseized hold of the first object that came in my way and started out fora waltz?"

"Not in the least, " Darrell answered, his dark eyes full of merriment. "I only wish I had been fortunate enough to have arrived a littleearlier. "

A mischievous response to his challenge sparkled in Kate's eyes for amoment, but she only replied, demurely, --

"You shall have your opportunity later. "

"When?"

"Two weeks from to-night. "

"Ah! am I to be honored with an invitation?"

"Most assuredly you will be invited, " Kate replied, quietly; then added, shyly, "and I myself invite you personally, here and now, and that ishonoring you as no other guest of mine will be honored. "

"Thank you, " he replied, gently, with one of his tender smiles; "Iaccept the personal invitation for your sake. "

She was standing on the topmost stair, slightly above him, one handtoying with a spray of blossoms depending from the vines above her head. With a swift movement Darrell caught the little hand and was in the actof carrying it to his lips, when it suddenly slipped from his grasp andits owner as quickly turned and disappeared. 

Darrell seated himself with a curious expression. It was not the firsttime Kate had eluded him thus within the last few days. He had missed oflate certain pleasant little familiarities and light, tender caresses, to which he had become accustomed, and he began to wonder at thischange in his child companion, as he regarded her. 

"What has come over the child?" he soliloquized; "two weeks ago if I hadgiven her a challenge for a waltz she would have taken me up, but latelyshe is as demure as a little nun! We will have to give it up, won't we, Duke, old boy?" he continued, addressing the collie, whose intelligenteyes were fastened on his face with a shrewd expression, as though, aware of the trend of Darrell's thoughts, he, too, considered hisbeloved young mistress rather incomprehensible. 

The ensuing days were so crowded with preparations for the coming eventand with such constant demands upon Kate's time that Darrell seldom sawher except at meals, and opportunities for anything like theiraccustomed pleasant interchange of confidence were few and far between. On those rare occasions, however, when he succeeded in meeting heralone, Darrell could not but be impressed by the subtle and to himinexplicable change in her manner. She seemed in some way so remotelyremoved from the young girl who, but a few days before, in response tothe violin's tale, had confided to him the loneliness of her own life. Ashy, sweet, but impenetrable reserve seemed to have replaced thechildlike familiarity. Her eyes still brightened with welcome at hisapproach, but their light was quickly veiled beneath drooping lids, andthrough the cadences of her low tones he caught at times the vibrationof a new chord, to whose meaning his ear was as yet unattuned. 

He did not know, nor did any other, that within that short time she hadlearned her own heart's secret. Child that she was, she had met Loveface to face, and in that one swift, burning glance of recognition thewomanhood within her had expanded as the bud expands, bursting itsimprisoning calyx under the ardent glance of the sun. But Darrell, seeing only the effect and knowing nothing of the cause, was vaguelytroubled. 

On the day of the reception both Mr. Underwood and Darrell lunched anddined down town, returning together to The Pines in the interim betweenthe afternoon and evening entertainments. As Darrell sprang from thecarriage and ran up the stairs the servants were already turning on thelights temporarily suspended within the veranda and throughout thegrounds, so that the place seemed transformed into a bit of fairyland. He heard chatter and laughter, and caught glimpses of youngladies--special guests from out of town--flitting from room to room, butKate was nowhere to be seen. 

Going to his room, he quickly donned an evening suit, not omitting adainty boutonnière awaiting him on his dressing-case, and betook himselfto the libraries across the hall, where, by previous arrangement, Katewas to call for him when it was time to go downstairs. 

From below came the ceaseless hum of conversation, the constant rippleof laughter, mingled with bits of song, and the occasional strains of awaltz. Reading was out of the question. Sinking into the depths of alarge arm-chair, Darrell was soon lost in dreamy reverie, from which hewas roused by a slight sound. 

Looking up, he saw framed in the arched doorway between the two rooms avision, like and yet so unlike the maiden for whom he waited and who hadoccupied his thoughts but a moment before that he gazed in silentastonishment, uncertain whether it were a reality or part of his dreams. For a moment the silence was unbroken; then, --

"How do you like my gown?" said the Vision, demurely. 

Darrell sprang to his feet and approached slowly, a new consciousnessdawning in his soul, a new light in his eyes. Of the style or texture ofher gown, a filmy, gleaming mass of white, he knew absolutely nothing;he only knew that its clinging softness revealed in new beauty therounded outlines of her form; that its snowy sheen set off the exquisitemoulding of her neck and arms; that its long, shimmering foldsaccentuated the height and grace of her slender figure; but a knowledgehad come to him in that moment like a revelation, stunning, bewilderinghim, thrilling his whole being, irradiating every lineament of his face. 

"I know very little about ladies' dress, " he said apologetically, "and Ifear I may express myself rather bunglingly, but to me the chief beautyof your gown consists in the fact that it reveals and enhances thebeauty of the wearer; in that sense, I consider it very beautiful. "

"Thank you, " Kate replied, with a low, sweeping courtesy to conceal theblushes which she felt mantling her cheeks, not so much at his words asat what she read in his eyes; "that is the most delicate compliment Iever heard. I know I shall not receive another so delicious this wholeevening, and to think of prefacing it with an apology!"

"I am glad to hear that voice, " said Darrell, possessing himself of onelittle gloved hand and surveying his companion critically, from thecharmingly coiffed head to the dainty white slipper peeping from beneathher skirt; "the voice and the eyes seem about all that is left of thelittle girl I had known and loved. "

She regarded him silently, with a gracious little smile, but withdeepening color and quickening pulse. 

He continued: "She has seemed different of late, somehow; she has eludedme so often I have felt as though she were in some way slipping awayfrom me, and now I fear I have lost her altogether. How is it?"

Darrell gently raised the sweet face so that he looked into the cleardepths of the brown eyes. 

"Tell me, Kathie dear, has she drifted away from me?"

For an instant the eyes were hidden under the curling lashes; then theylifted as she replied, with an enigmatical smile, --

"Not so far but that you may follow, if you choose. "

Darrell bowed his head and his lips touched the golden-brown hair. 

"Sweetheart, " he said, in low tones, scarcely above a whisper, "Ifollow; if I overtake her, what then? Will I find her the same as in thepast?"

Her heart was beating wildly with a new, strange joy; she longed to getaway by herself and taste its sweetness to the full. 

"The same, and yet not the same, " she answered, slowly; then, before hecould say more, she added, lightly, as a wave of laughter was borneupward from the parlors. 

"But I came to see if you were ready to go downstairs; ought we not tojoin the others?"

"As you please, " he replied, stooping to pick up the programme she haddropped; "are the guests arriving yet?"

"No; it is still early, but I want to introduce you to my friends. Oh, yes, my programme; thanks! That reminds me, I am going to ask you to putyour name down for two or three waltzes; you know, " she added, smiling, "I promised you two weeks ago some waltzes for this evening, so takeyour choice. "

For an instant Darrell hesitated, and the old troubled look returned tohis face. 

"You are very kind, " he said, slowly, "and I appreciate the honor; butit has just occurred to me that really I am not at all certain regardingmy proficiency in that line. "

Kate understood his dilemma. They had reached the hall; some one was atthe piano below and the strains of a dreamy waltz floated through therooms. 

"I haven't a doubt of your proficiency myself, " she replied, with aconfident smile, "but if you would like a test, here is a goodopportunity, " and she glanced up and down the vacant but brightlylighted corridor. Darrell needed no second hint, and almost before shewas aware they were gliding over the floor. 

To Kate, intoxicated with her new-found joy, it seemed as though shewere borne along on the waves of the music without effort or volition ofher own. She dared not trust herself to speak. Once or twice she raisedher eyes to meet the dark ones whose gaze she felt upon her face, butthe love-light shining in their depths overpowered her glance and sheturned her eyes away. She knew that he had seen and recognized thewoman, and that as such--and not as a child--he loved her, and for thepresent this knowledge was happiness enough. 

And Darrell was silent, still bewildered by the twofold revelation whichhad so suddenly come to him; the revelation of the lovely womanhood athis side, to which he had, until now, been blind, and of the love withinhis own heart, of which, till now, he had been unconscious. 

Before they had completed two turns up and down the corridor the musicceased as suddenly as it had begun. 

"Oh, that was heavenly! It seemed like a dream!" Kate exclaimed, with asigh. 

"It seemed a very blessed bit of reality to me, " Darrell laughed inreturn, drawing her arm within his own as they proceeded towards thestairs. 

"You are a superb dancer; now you certainly can have no scruples aboutclaiming some waltzes, " Kate replied, withdrawing her arm and againplacing her programme in his hands. 

As they paused at the head of the stairs while Darrell complied with herrequest, a chorus of voices was heard in the hall below. 

"Kate, are you never coming?" some one called, and a sprightly brunetteappeared for an instant on the first landing, but vanished quickly atsight of Darrell. 

"Girls!" they heard her exclaim to the merry group below; "would youbelieve it? She is taking a base advantage of us; she has discoveredwhat we did not suppose existed in this house--a young man--and isgetting her programme filled in advance!"

Cries of "Oh, Kate, that's not fair!" followed. Kate leaned laughinglyover the balustrade. 

"He's an angel of a dancer, girls, " she called, "but I'll promise not tomonopolize him!"

Darrell returned the programme, saying, as they passed down the stairstogether, --

"I didn't want to appear selfish, so I only selected three, but give memore if you can, later. "

Kate smiled. "I think, " she replied, "you will speedily find yourself insuch demand that I will consider myself fortunate to have secured thosethree; but, " she added shyly, as her eyes met his, "my first waltz waswith you, and that was just as I intended it should be!"

Through the hours which followed so swiftly Darrell was in a sort ofwaking dream, a state of superlative happiness, unmarred as yet byphantoms from the shrouded past or misgivings as to the dim, uncertainfuture; past and future were for the time alike forgotten. One imagedominated his mind, --the form and face of the fair young hostess movingamong her guests as a queen amid her court, carrying her daintily poisedhead as though conscious of the twofold royal crown of womanhood andwoman's love. One thought surged continuously through and through hisbrain, --that she was his, his by the sovereign right of love. Whatevercourtesy he showed to others was for her sake, because they were herguests, her friends, and when unengaged he stationed himself in somequiet corner or dimly lighted alcove where, unobserved, he could watchher movements with their rhythmic grace or catch the music of her voice, the sight or sound thrilling him with joy so exquisite as to be akin topain. The oft-repeated compliments of the crowd about him seemed to himempty, trite, meaningless; what could they know of her real beautycompared with himself who saw her through Love's eyes!

As he stood thus alone in a deep bay-window, shaded by giant palms, someone paused beside him. 

"Our little débutante has surpassed herself to-night; she is fairest ofthe fair!"

Darrell turned to see at his side Walcott, faultlessly attired, elegant, nonchalant; a half-smile playing about his lips as through half-closedeyes he watched the dancers. Instantly all the antagonism in Darrell'snature rose against the man; strive as he might, he was powerless tosubdue it. There was no trace of it in his voice, however, as heanswered, quietly, --

"Miss Underwood certainly looks very beautiful to-night. "

"She has matured marvellously of late, " continued the other, in low, pleasant tones; "her development within the past few weeks has beenremarkable. But that is to be expected in women of her style, and thisis but the beginning. Mark my words, Mr. Darrell, " Walcott faced hisauditor with a smile, "Miss Underwood's beauty to-night is but the paleshining of a taper beside one of those lights yonder, compared with whatit will be a few years hence; are you aware of that?"

"It had not occurred to me, " Darrell replied, with studied calmness, forthe conversation was becoming distasteful to him. 

"Look at her now!" said Walcott, bowing and smiling as Kate floated pastthem, but regarding her with a scrutiny that aroused Darrell's quickresentment; "very fair, very lovely, I admit, but a trifle too slender;a little too colorless, too neutral, as it were! A few years will changeall that. You will see her a woman of magnificent proportions and withthe cold, neutral tints replaced by warmth and color. I have made astudy of women, and I know that class well. Five or ten years from nowshe will be simply superb, and at the age when ordinary women lose theirpower to charm she will only be in the zenith of her beauty. "

The look and tone accompanying the words filled Darrell with indignationand disgust. 

"You will have to excuse me, " he said, coldly; "you seem, as you say, tohave made a study of women from your own standpoint, but our standardsof beauty differ so radically that further discussion of the subject isuseless. "

"Ah, well, every man according to his taste, of course, " Walcottremarked, indifferently, and, turning lightly, he walked away, a faintgleam of amusement lighting his dark features. 

Half an hour later, as Darrell glided over the floor with Kate, someirresistible force drew his glance towards the bay-window where withinthe shadow of the palms Walcott was now standing alone, suave as ever. Their eyes met for an instant only, and Walcott smiled. The dance wenton, but the smile, like a poisoned shaft, entered Darrell's soul andrankled there. 

Both Darrell and Walcott were marked men that night and attracteduniversal attention and comment. Darrell's pale, intellectual face, penetrating eyes, and dark hair already streaked with gray would haveattracted attention anywhere, as would also Walcott with his olive skin, his cynical smile, and graceful, sinuous movement. In addition, Darrell's peculiar mental condition and the fact that his identity wasenveloped in a degree of mystery rendered him doubly interesting. In thecase of each this was his introduction to the social life of Ophir. Eachhad been a resident of the town, the one as a student and recluse, theother as a business man, but each was a stranger to the stratum known associety. Each held himself aloof that evening from the throng: the one, through natural reserve, courteous but indifferent to the passing crowd;the other alert, watchful, studying the crowd; weighing, gauging thisnew element, speculating whether or not it were worth his while to courtits favor, whether or not he could make of it an ally for his own futureadvantage. 

Soon after his arrival Walcott had begged of Kate Underwood the honor ofa waltz, but her programme being then nearly filled she could only givehim one well towards the end. As he intended to render himselfconspicuous by dancing only once, and then with the belle of theevening, it was at quite a late hour when he first made his appearanceon the floor. Kate was on his arm, and at that instant his criticism, made earlier in the evening, that she was too colorless, certainly couldnot have applied. 

As he led her out upon the floor he bent his gaze upon her with a lookwhich brought the color swiftly to her face in crimson waves thatflooded the full, snow-white throat and, surging upward, reached even tothe blue-veined temples. Instinctively she shrank from him with asensation almost of fear, but something in his gaze held her as thoughspell-bound. She looked into his eyes like one fascinated, scarcelyknowing what he said or what reply she made. The waltz began, and astheir fingers touched Kate's nerves tingled as though from an electricshock. She shivered slightly, then, angry with herself, used everyexertion to overcome the strange spell. To a great extent she succeeded, but she felt benumbed, as though moving in a dream or in obedience tosome will stronger than her own, while her temples throbbed painfullyand her respiration grew hurried and difficult. She grew dizzy, butpride came to her rescue, and, except for the color which now ran riotin her cheeks and a slight tremor through her frame, there was no hintof her agitation. Her partner was all that could be desired, guiding herthrough the circling crowds, and supporting her in the swift turns withthe utmost grace and courtesy, but it was a relief when it was over. Ather request, Walcott escorted her to a seat near her aunt, thensmilingly withdrew with much inward self-congratulation. 

At that moment Darrell, seeing Kate unengaged, hastened to her side. 

"You look warm and the air here is oppressive, " he said, observing herflushed face and fanning her gently; "shall we go outside for a fewmoments?"

"Yes, please; anywhere out of this heat and glare, " she answered; "mytemples throb as if they would burst and my face feels as though it wereon fire!"

Darrell hastened to the hall, returning an instant later with a lightwrap which he proceeded to throw about Kate's shoulders. 

"You are tired, Katherine, " said Mrs. Dean, "more tired than you realizenow; you had better not dance any more to-night. "

"I have but two more dances, auntie, " the young girl answered, smiling;"you surely would not wish me to forego those;" adding, in a lower tone, as she turned towards Darrell, "one of them is your waltz, and I wouldnot miss that for anything!"

They passed through the hall and out upon a broad balcony. They couldhear the subdued laughter of couples strolling through the brightlylighted grounds below, while over the distant landscape shone the paleweird light of the waning moon, just rising in the east. None of theguests had discovered the balcony opening from the hall on the thirdfloor, so they had it exclusively to themselves. 

As Darrell drew Kate's arm closer within his own he was surprised tofeel her trembling slightly, while the hand lying on his own was cold asmarble. 

"My dear child!" he exclaimed; "your hands are cold and you aretrembling! What is the matter--are you cold?"

"No, not cold exactly, only shivery, " she answered, with a laugh. "Myhead was burning up in there, and I feel sort of hot flashes and then acreepy, shivery feeling by turns; but I am not cold out here, really, "she added, earnestly, as Darrell drew her wrap more closely about her. 

"Nevertheless, I cannot allow you to stay out here any longer, " Darrellreplied, finding his first taste of masculine authority very sweet. 

For an instant Kate felt a very feminine desire to put his authority tothe test, but the sense of his protection and his solicitude for herwelfare seemed particularly soothing just then, and so, with only asaucy little smile, she silently allowed him to lead her into the house. At his suggestion, however, they did not return to the ball-room, butpassed around through an anteroom, coming out into a small, circularapartment, dimly lighted and cosily furnished, opening upon one cornerof the ball-room. 

"It strikes me, " said Darrell, as he drew aside the silken hangingsdividing the two rooms and pushed a low divan before the open space, "this will be fully as pleasant as the balcony and much safer. "

"The very thing!" Kate exclaimed, sinking upon the divan with a sigh ofrelief; "we will have a fine view of the dancers and yet be quitesecluded ourselves. "

A minuet was already in progress on the floor, and for a few momentsKate watched the stately, graceful dance, while Darrell, having adjustedher wrap lightly about her, seated himself beside her and silentlywatched her face with deep content. 

Gradually the throbbing in her temples subsided, the nervous tremorceased, her color became natural, and she felt quite herself again. Sheleaned back against the divan and looked with laughing eyes intoDarrell's face. 

"Mr. Darrell, do you believe in hypnotism?" she suddenly inquired. 

"In hypnotism? Yes; but not in many of those who claim to practise it. Most of them are mere impostors. But why do you ask?" he continued, drawing her head down upon his shoulder and looking playfully into hereyes; "are you trying to hypnotize me?"

Kate laughed merrily and shook her head. "I'm afraid I wouldn't find youa good subject, " she said; then added, slowly, as her face grew serious:

"Do you know, I believe I was hypnotized to-night by that dreadful Mr. Walcott. He certainly cast a malign spell of some kind over me from themoment we went on the floor together till he left me. "

"Why do you say that?" Darrell asked, quickly; "you know I did not seeyou on the floor with him, for Miss Stockton asked me to go with her fora promenade. We came back just as the waltz had ended and Mr. Walcottwas escorting you to your aunt. I noticed that you seemed greatlyfatigued and excused myself to Miss Stockton and came over at once. Whathad happened?"

Kate related what had occurred. "I can't give you any idea of it, " shesaid, in conclusion; "it seemed unaccountable, but it was simplydreadful. You know his eyes are nearly always closed in that peculiarway of his, and really I don't think I had any idea how they looked; butto-night as he looked at me they were wide open; and, do you know, Ican't describe them, but they looked so soft and melting they werebeautiful, and yet there was something absolutely terrible in theirdepths. It seemed some way like looking down into a volcano! And theworst of it was, they seemed to hold me--I couldn't take my eyes fromhis. He was as kind and courteous as could be, I'll admit that, but eventhe touch of his fingers made me shiver. "

Darrell's face had darkened during Kate's recital, but he controlled hisanger. 

"Now, was that due to my own imagination or to some uncanny spell ofhis?" Kate insisted. 

"To neither wholly, and yet perhaps a little of each, " Darrell answered, lightly, not wishing to alarm her or lead her to attach undue importanceto the occurrence. "I think Mr. Walcott has an abnormal amount ofconceit, and that most of those little mannerisms of his are mainly toattract attention to himself. He was probably trying to produce somesort of an impression on your mind, and to that extent he certainlysucceeded, only the impression does not seem to have been as favorableas he perhaps would have wished. No one but a conceited cad would haveattempted such a thing, and with your supersensitive nature the effecton you was anything but pleasant, but don't allow yourself to thinkabout it or be annoyed by it. At the same time I would advise you not toplace yourself in his power or where he could have any advantage of you. By the way, this is our waltz, is it not?"

"It is, " Kate replied, rising and watching Darrell as he removed herwrap and prepared to escort her to the ball-room. His playful badinagehad not deceived her. As she took his arm she said, in a low tone, --

"You affect to treat this matter rather lightly, but, all the same, youhave warned me against this man. 'Forewarned is forearmed, ' you know, and no man can ever attempt to harm me or mine with impunity!"

Darrell turned quickly in surprise; there was a quality in her tonewholly unfamiliar. 

"But I fear you exaggerate what I intended to convey, " he said, hastily;"I do not know that he would ever deliberately seek to harm you, but hemight render himself obnoxious in some way, as he did to-night. "

She shook her head. "I was taken off guard to-night, " she said; "but hehad best never attempt anything of the kind a second time!"

They were now waiting for the waltz to begin; she continued, in the samelow tone:

"I have had a western girl's education. When I was a child this placewas little more than a rough mining camp, with plenty of desperatecharacters. My father trained me as he would have trained a boy, and, "she added, significantly, with a bright, proud smile, "I am just asproficient now as I was then!"

Darrell scarcely heeded the import of her words, so struck was he by thechange in her face, which had suddenly grown wonderfully like herfather's, --stern, impassive, unrelenting. She smiled, and the lookvanished, and for the time he thought no more of it, but as the passingcloud sometimes reveals features in a landscape unnoticed in thesunlight, so it had disclosed a phase of character latent, unguessedeven by those who knew her best. 

Two hours later the last carriage had gone; the guests from out of townwho were to remain at The Pines for the night had retired, and darknessand silence had gradually settled over the house. A light still burnedin Mr. Underwood's private room, where he paced back and forth, hisbrows knit in deep thought, but his stern face lighted with a smile ofintense satisfaction. Darrell, who had remained below to assist Mrs. Dean in the performance of a few last duties, having accompanied her ina final tour of the deserted rooms to make sure that all was safe, badeher good-night and went upstairs. To his surprise, Kate's library wasstill lighted, and through the open door he could see her at her deskwriting. 

She looked up on hearing his step, and, as he approached, rose and cameto the door. 

She had exchanged her evening gown for a dainty robe de chambre ofwhite cashmere and lace, and, standing there against the background ofmellow light, her hair coiled low on her neck, while numerousintractable locks curled about her ears and temples, it was small wonderthat Darrell's eyes bespoke his admiration and love, even if his lipsdid not. 

"Writing at this time of night!" he exclaimed; "we supposed you asleeplong ago. "

"Sh! don't speak so loud, " she protested. "You'll have Aunt Marcia uphere! I have nearly finished my writing, so you needn't scold. "

Glancing at the large journal lying open on her desk, Darrell asked, with a quizzical smile, --

"Couldn't that have been postponed for a few hours?"

"Not to-night, " she replied, with emphasis; "ordinarily, you know, itcould and would have been postponed, perhaps indefinitely, but notto-night!"

She glanced shyly into his eyes, and her own fell, as she added, in alower tone, --

"To-night has memories so golden I want to preserve them before theyhave been dimmed by even one hour's sleep!"

Darrell's face grew marvellously tender; he drew her head down upon hisbreast while he caressed the rippling hair with its waves of light andshade. 

"This night will always have golden memories for me, Kathie, " he said, "and neither days nor years can ever dim their lustre; of that I amsure. "

Kate raised her head, drawing herself slightly away from his embrace sothat she could look him in the face. 

"'Kathie!'" she repeated, softly; "that is the second time you havecalled me by that name to-night. I never heard it before; where did youget it?"

"Oh, it came to me, " he said, smiling; "and somehow it seemed just thename for you; but I'll not call you so unless you like it. "

"I do like it immensely, " she replied; "I am tired of 'Kate' and'Kittie' and Aunt Marcia's terrible 'Katherine;' I am glad you areoriginal enough to call me by something different, but it sounds so odd;I wondered if there might have been a 'Kathie' in the past. But, " sheadded, quickly, "I must not stay here. I just came out to say good-nightto you. "

"We had better say good-morning, " Darrell laughed, as the clock in thehall below chimed one of the "wee, sma' hours;" "promise me that youwill go to rest at once, won't you?"

"Very soon, " she answered, smiling; then, a sudden impulsivenessconquering her reserve, she exclaimed, "Do you know, this has been thehappiest night of my whole life. I hardly dare go to sleep for fear Iwill wake up and find it all a dream. "

For answer Darrell folded her close to his breast, kissing her hair andbrow with passionate tenderness; then suddenly, neither knew just how, their lips met in long, lingering, rapturous kisses. 

"Will that make it seem more real, sweetheart?" he asked, in a low voicevibrating with emotion. 

"Yes, oh yes!" she panted, half frightened by his fervor; "but let mego; please do!"

He released her, only retaining her hands for an instant, which he bentand kissed; then bidding her good-night, he hastened down the hall tohis room. 

At the door, however, he looked back and saw her still standing where hehad left her. She wafted him a kiss on her finger-tips and disappeared. Going to her desk, she read with shining eyes and smiling lips the lastlines written in her journal, then dipped her pen as though to writefurther, hesitated, and, closing the book, whispered, --

"That is too sacred to intrust even to you, you dear, old journal! Ishall keep it locked in my own breast. "

Then, locking her desk and turning off the light, she stole noiselesslyto her room. 

_Chapter XVI_

THE AFTERMATH

As Darrell entered his room its dim solitude seemed doubly gratefulafter the glare of the crowded rooms he had lately left. His brainwhirled from the unusual excitement. He wanted to be alone with his ownthoughts--alone with this new, overpowering joy, and assure himself ofits reality. He seated himself by an open window till the air had cooledhis brow, and his brain, under the mysterious, soothing influence of thenight, grew less confused; then, partially disrobing, he threw himselfupon his bed to rest, but not to sleep. 

Again he lived over the last few weeks at The Pines, comprehending atlast the gracious influence which, entering into his barren, meagrelife, had rendered it so inexpressibly rich and sweet and complete. Ah, how blind! to have walked day after day hand in hand with Love, notknowing that he entertained an angel unawares!

And then had followed the revelation, when the scales had fallen fromhis eyes before the vision of lovely maiden-womanhood which had suddenlyconfronted him. He recalled her as she stood awaiting his tardyrecognition--recalled her every word and look throughout the eveningdown to their parting, and again he seemed to hold her in his arms, tolook into her eyes, to feel her head upon his breast, her kisses on hislips. 

But even with the remembrance of those moments, while yet he felt thepressure of her lips upon his own, pure and cool like the dewy petalsof a rose at sunrise, there came to him the first consciousness of painmingled with the rapture, the first dash of bitter in the sweet, as herecalled the question in her eyes and the half-whispered, "I wondered ifthere might have been a 'Kathie' in the past. "

The past! How could he for one moment have forgotten that awful shadowoverhanging his life! As it suddenly loomed before him in its hideousblackness, Darrell started from his pillow in horror, a cold sweatbursting from every pore. Gradually the terrible significance of it alldawned upon him, --the realization of what he had done and of what hemust, as best he might, undo. It meant the relinquishment of what wassweetest and holiest on earth just as it seemed within his grasp; therenunciation of all that had made life seem worth living! Darrell buriedhis face in his hands and groaned aloud. So it was only a mockery, adream. He recalled Kate's words: "I hardly dare go to sleep for fear Iwill wake up and find it all a dream, " and self-reproach and remorseadded their bitterness to his agony. What right had he to bring thatbright young life under the cloud overhanging his own, to wreck herhappiness by contact with his own misfortune! What would it be for herwhen she came to know the truth, as she must know it; and how was he totell her? In his anguish he groaned, --

"God pity us both and be merciful to her!"

For more than an hour he walked the room; then kneeling by the bed, justas a pale, silvery streak appeared along the eastern horizon, hecried, --

"O God, leave me not in darkness; give me some clew to the vanishedpast, that I may know whether or not I have the right to this mostprecious of all thine earthly gifts!"

And, burying his face, he strove as never before to pierce the darknessenveloping his brain. Long he knelt there, his hands clinching thebedclothes convulsively, even the muscles of his body tense and rigidunder the terrible mental strain he was undergoing, while at times hispowerful frame shook with agony. 

The silvery radiance crept upward over the deep blue dome; the starsdwindled to glimmering points of light, then faded one by one; a roseateflush tinged the eastern sky, growing and deepening, and the firstgolden rays were shooting upward from a sea of crimson flame as Darrellrose from his knees. He walked to the window, but even the sunlightseemed to mock him--there was no light for him, no rift in the clouddarkening his path, and with a heavy sigh he turned away. The strugglewas not yet over; this was to be a day of battle with himself, and henerved himself for the coming ordeal. 

After a cold bath he dressed and descended to the breakfast-room. It wasstill early, but Mr. Underwood was already at the table and Mrs. Deanentered a moment later from the kitchen, where she had been givingdirections for breakfast for Kate and her guests. Both were shocked atDarrell's haggard face and heavy eyes, but by a forced cheerfulness hesucceeded in diverting the scrutiny of the one and the anxioussolicitude of the other. Mr. Underwood returned to his paper and hissister and Darrell had the conversation to themselves. 

"Last night's dissipation proved too much for me, " Darrell said, playfully, in reply to some protest of Mrs. Dean's regarding his lightappetite. 

"You don't look fit to go down town!" she exclaimed; "you had betterstay at home and help Katherine entertain her guests. I noticed youseemed to be very popular with them last night. "

"I'm afraid I would prove a sorry entertainer, " Darrell answered, lightly, as he rose from the table, "so you will kindly excuse me toMiss Underwood and her friends. "

"Aren't you going to wait and ride down?" Mr. Underwood inquired. 

"Not this morning, " Darrell replied; "a brisk walk will do me good. " Anda moment later they heard his firm step on the gravelled driveway. 

Mr. Underwood having finished his reading of the morning paper passed itto his sister. 

"Pretty good write-up of last night's affair, " he commented, as hereplaced his spectacles in their case. 

"Is there? I'll look it up after breakfast; I haven't my glasses now, "Mrs. Dean replied. "I thought myself that everything passed off prettywell. What did you think of Katherine last night, David?"

The lines about his mouth deepened as he answered, quietly, --

"She'll do, if she is my child. I didn't see any finer than she; and oldStockton's daughter, with all her father's millions, couldn't touchher!"

"I had no idea the child was so beautiful, " Mrs. Dean continued; "sheseemed to come out so unexpectedly some way, just like a flowerunfolding. I never was so surprised in my life. "

"I guess the little girl took a good many of 'em by surprise, judging byappearances, " Mr. Underwood remarked, a shrewd smile lighting his sternfeatures. 

"Yes, she received a great deal of attention, " rejoined his sister. "Isuppose, " she added thoughtfully, "she'll have lots of admirers 'roundhere now. "

"No, she won't, " Mr. Underwood retorted, with decision, at the sametime pushing back his chair and rising hastily; "I'll see to it that shedoesn't. If the right man steps up and means business, all right; butI'll have no hangers-on or fortune-hunters dawdling about!"

His sister watched him curiously with a faint smile. "You had betteradvertise for the kind of man you want, " she said, dryly, "and statethat 'none others need apply, ' as a warning to applicants whom you mightconsider undesirable. "

Mr. Underwood turned quickly. "What are you driving at?" he demanded, impatiently. "I've no time for beating about the bush. "

"And I've no time for explanations, " she replied, with exasperatingcalmness; "you can think it over at your leisure. "

With a contemptuous "Humph!" Mr. Underwood left the house. After he hadgone his sister sat for a while in deep thought, then, with a sigh, roseand went about her accustomed duties. She had been far more keen thanher brother to observe the growing intimacy between her niece andDarrell, and she had seen some indications on the previous evening whichtroubled her, as much on Darrell's account as Kate's, for she had becomedeeply attached to the young man, and she well knew that her brotherwould not look upon him with favor as a suitor for his daughter. 

Meanwhile, Darrell, on reaching the office, found work and study alikeimpossible. The room seemed narrow and stifling; the medley of soundfrom the adjoining offices and from the street was distracting. Herecalled the companions of his earlier days of pain and conflict, --themountains, --and his heart yearned for their restful silence, for thesoothing and uplifting of their solemn presence. 

Having left a brief note on Mr. Underwood's desk he closed his office, and, leaving the city behind him, started on foot up the familiar canyonroad. After a walk of an hour or more he left the road, and, strikinginto a steep, narrow trail, began the ascent of one of the mountains ofthe main range. It still lacked a little of midday when he at last foundhimself on a narrow bench, near the summit, in a small growth of pinesand firs. He stopped from sheer exhaustion and looked about him. Not asign of human life was visible; not a sound broke the stillness save anoccasional breath of air murmuring through the pines and the tricklingof a tiny rivulet over the rocks just above where he stood. Going to thelittle stream he caught the crystal drops as they fell, quenching histhirst and bathing his heated brow; then, somewhat refreshed, he bracedhimself for the inevitable conflict. 

Slowly he paced up and down the rocky ledge, giving no heed to thepassage of time, all his faculties centred upon the struggle between theinexorable demands of conscience on the one hand and the insatiatecravings of a newly awakened passion on the other. Vainly he strove tofind some middle ground. Gradually, as his brain grew calm, the variouscourses of action which had at first suggested themselves to his mindappeared weak and cowardly, and the only course open to him was that ofrenunciation and of self-immolation. 

With a bitter cry he threw himself, face downward, upon the ground. Along time he lay there, till at last the peace from the great pityingheart of Nature touched his heart, and he slept on the warm bosom ofMother Earth as a child on its mother's breast. 

The sun was sinking towards the western ranges and slowly lengtheningshadows were creeping athwart the distant valleys when Darrell rose tohis feet and, after silently drinking in the beauty of the scene abouthim, prepared to descend. His face bore traces of the recent struggle, but it was the face of one who had conquered, whose mastery of himselfwas beyond all doubt or question. He took the homeward trail with firmstep, with head erect, with face set and determined, and there was inhis bearing that which indicated that there would be no wavering, noswerving from his purpose. His own hand had closed and bolted the gatesof the Eden whose sweets he had but just tasted, and his conscience heldthe flaming sword which was henceforth to guard those portals. 

A little later, as Darrell in the early twilight passed up the drivewayto The Pines, he was conscious only of a dull, leaden weight within hisbreast; his very senses seemed benumbed and he almost believed himselfincapable of further suffering, till, as he approached the house, thesight of Kate seated in the veranda with her father and aunt and thethought of the suffering yet in store for her thrilled him anew withmost poignant pain. 

His face was in the shadow as he came up the steps, and only Kate, seated near him, saw its pallor. She started and would have uttered anexclamation, but something in its expression awed and restrained her. There was a grave tenderness in his eyes as they met hers, but the lightand joy which had been there when last she looked into them had gone outand in their place were dark gloom and despair. She heard as in a dreamhis answers to the inquiries of her father and aunt; heard him pass intothe house accompanied by her aunt, who had prepared a substantial lunchagainst his return, and, with a strange sinking at her heart, satsilently awaiting his coming out. 

It had been a trying day for her. On waking, her happiness had seemedcomplete, but Darrell's absence on that morning of all mornings hadseemed to her inexplicable, and when her guests had taken theirdeparture and the long day wore on without his return and with nomessage from him, an indefinable dread haunted her. She had watchedeagerly for Darrell's return, believing that one look into his facewould banish her forebodings, but, instead, she had read there only aconfirmation of her fears. And now she waited in suspense, longing, yetdreading to hear his step. 

At last he came, and, as he faced the light, Kate was shocked at thechange which so few hours had wrought. He, too, was touched by thepiteous appeal in her eyes, and there was a rare tenderness in voice andsmile as he suggested a stroll through the grounds according to theircustom, which somewhat reassured her. 

Perhaps Mr. Underwood and his sister had observed the old shadow ofgloom in Darrell's face, and surmised something of its cause, for theireyes followed the young people in their walk up and down under the pinesand a softened look stole into their usually impassive faces. At last, as they passed out of sight on one of the mountain terraces, Mrs. Deansaid, with slight hesitation, --

"Did it ever occur to you, David, that Katherine and Mr. Darrell arethrown in each other's society a great deal?"

Mr. Underwood shot a keen glance at his sister from under his heavybrows, as he replied, --

"Come to think of it, I suppose they are, though I can't say as I'veever given the matter much thought. "

"Perhaps it's time you did think about it. "

"Come, Marcia, " said her brother, good-humoredly, "come to the point;are you, woman-like, scenting a love-affair in that direction?"

Mrs. Dean found herself unexpectedly cornered. "I don't say that thereis, but I don't know what else you could expect of two young folks likethem, thrown together constantly as they are. "

"Well, " said Mr. Underwood, with an air of comic perplexity, "do youwant me to send Darrell adrift, or shall I pack Puss off to a convent?"

"Now, David, I'm serious, " his sister remonstrated, mildly. "Of course, I don't know that anything will come of it; but if you don't want thatanything should, I think it's your duty, for Katherine's sake and Mr. Darrell's also, to prevent it. I think too much of them both to see anytrouble come to either of them. "

Mr. Underwood puffed at his pipe in silence, while the gleaming needlesin his sister's fingers clicked with monotonous regularity. When hespoke his tones lacked their usual brusqueness and had an element almostof gentleness. 

"Was this what was in your mind this morning, Marcia?"

"Well, maybe so, " his sister assented. 

"I don't think, Marcia, that I need any one to tell me my duty, especially regarding my child. I have my own plans for her future, and Iwill allow nothing to interfere with them. And as for John Darrell, hehas the good, sterling sense to know that anything more than friendshipbetween him and Kate is not to be thought of for a moment, and I cantrust to his honor as a gentleman that he will not go beyond it. So Irather think your anxieties are groundless. "

"Perhaps so, " his sister answered, doubtfully, "but young folks are notgenerally governed much by common sense in things of this kind; and thenyou know, David, Katherine is different from us, --she grows more andmore like her mother, --and if she once got her heart set on any one, Idon't think anybody--even you--could make her change. "

The muscles of Mr. Underwood's face suddenly contracted as though byacute pain. 

"That will do, Marcia, " he said, gravely, with a silencing wave of hishand; "there is no need to call up the past. I know Kate is like hermother, but she has my blood in her veins also, --enough that when thetime comes she'll not let any childish sentimentality stand in the wayof what I think is for her good. "

Mrs. Dean silently folded her knitting and rose to go into the house. Atthe door, however, she paused, and, looking back at her brother, said, in her low, even tones, --

"I have said my last word of this affair, David, no matter what comes ofit. You think you understand Katherine better than I, but you may findsome day that it's better to prevent trouble than to try to cure it. "

Meanwhile, Darrell and Kate had reached their favorite seat beneath thepines and, after one or two futile attempts at talking, had lapsed intoa constrained silence. To Kate there came a sudden realization that themerely friendly relations heretofore existing between them had beenswept away; that henceforth she must either give the man at her side theconcentrated affection of her whole being or, should he proveunworthy, --she glanced at his haggard face and could not complete thesupposition even to herself. He was troubled, and her tender heartlonged to comfort him, but his strange appearance held her back. At oneword, one sign of love from him, she would have thrown herself upon hisbreast and begged to share his burden in true woman fashion; but he wasso cold, so distant; he did not even take her hand as in the careless, happy days before either of them thought of love. 

Kate could endure the silence no longer, and ventured some timid word ofloving sympathy. 

Darrell turned, facing her, his dark eyes strangely hollow and sunken. 

"Yes, " he said, in a low voice, "God knows I have suffered since I sawyou, but I deserve to suffer for having so far forgotten myself lastnight. That is not what is troubling me now; it is the thought of thesorrow and wretchedness I have brought into your pure, innocentlife, --that you must suffer for my folly, my wrong-doing. "

"But, " interposed Kate, "I don't understand; what wrong have you done?"

"Kathie, " he answered, brokenly, "it was all a mistake--a terriblemistake of mine! Can you forgive me? Can you forget? God grant you can!"

"Forgive! Forget!" she exclaimed, in bewildered tones; "a mistake?" hervoice faltered and she paused, her face growing deathly pale. 

"I cannot think, " he continued, "how I came to so forget myself, thecircumstances under which I am here, the kindness you and your peoplehave shown me, and the trust they have reposed in me. I must have beenbeside myself. But I have no excuse to offer; I can only ask yourforgiveness, and that I may, so far as possible, undo what has beendone. "

While he was speaking she had drawn away from him, and, sitting proudlyerect, she scanned his face in the waning light as though to read therethe full significance of his meaning. Her cheeks blanched at his lastwords, but there was no tremor in her tones as she replied, --

"I understand you to refer to what occurred last night; is that what youwish undone--what you would have me forget?"

"I would give worlds if only it might be undone, " he answered, "but thatis an impossibility. Oh Kathie, I know how monstrous, how cruel thismust seem to you, but it is the only honorable course left me after mystupidity, my cursed folly; and, believe me, it is far more of akindness even to you to stop this wretched business right here than tocarry it farther. "

"It is not necessary to consider my feelings in the matter, Mr. Darrell. If, as you say, you found yourself mistaken, to attempt after that tocarry on what could only be a mere farce would be simply unpardonable. Amistake I could forgive; a deliberate deception, never!"

The tones, so unlike Kate's, caused Darrell to turn in pained surprise. The deepening shadows hid the white, drawn face and quivering lips; hesaw only the motionless, slender figure held so rigidly erect. 

"But, Kathie--Miss Underwood--you must have misunderstood me, " he said, earnestly. "I have acted foolishly, but in no way falsely. You couldnot, under any circumstances, accuse me of deception----"

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Darrell, " she interposed, more gently; "I didnot intend to accuse you of deception. I only meant that, regardless ofany personal feeling, it was, as you said, better to stop this; that tocarry it farther after you had found you did not care for me as yousupposed--or as I was led to suppose----" She paused an instant, uncertain how to proceed. 

"Kathie, Kathie! what are you saying?" Darrell exclaimed. "What have Isaid that you should so misunderstand me?"

"But, " she protested, piteously, struggling to control her voice, "didyou not say that it was all a mistake on your part--that you wished itall undone? What else could I understand?"

"My poor child!" said Darrell, tenderly; then reaching over andpossessing himself of one of her hands, he continued, gravely:

"The mistake was mine in that I ever allowed myself to think of lovingyou when love is not for me. I have no right, Kathie, to love you, orany other woman, as I am now. I did not know until last night that I didlove you. Then it came upon me like a revelation, --a revelation sooverwhelming that it swept all else before it. You, and you alone, filled my thoughts. Wherever I was, I saw you, heard you, and you only. Again and again in imagination I clasped you to my breast, I felt yourkisses on my lips, --just as I afterwards felt them in reality. "

He paused a moment and dropped the hand he had taken. Under cover of theshadows Kate's tears were falling unchecked; one, falling on Darrell'shand, had warned him that there must be no weakening, no softening. 

His voice was almost stern as he resumed. "For those few hours I forgotthat I was a being apart from the rest of the world, exiled to darknessand oblivion; forgot the obligations to myself and to others which myown condition imposes upon me. But the dream passed; I awoke to arealization of what I had done, and whatever I have suffered since isbut the just penalty of my folly. The worst of all is that I haveinvolved you in needless suffering; I have won your love only to have toput it aside--to renounce it. But even this is better--far better thanto allow your young life to come one step farther within the cloudsthat envelop my own. Do you understand me now, Kathie?"

"Yes, " she replied, calmly; "I understand it from your view, as it looksto you. "

"But is not that the only view?"

She did not speak at once, and when she did it was with a peculiardeliberation. 

"The clouds will lift one day; what then?"

Darrell's voice trembled with emotion as he replied, "We cannot trust tothat, for neither you nor I know what the light will reveal. "

She remained silent, and Darrell, after a pause, continued: "Don't makeit harder for me, Kathie; there is but one course for us to follow inhonor to ourselves or to each other. "

They sat in silence for a few moments; then both rose simultaneously toreturn to the house, and as they did so Darrell was conscious of a newbearing in Kate's manner, --an added dignity and womanliness. As theyfaced one another Darrell took both her hands in his, saying, --

"What is it to be, Kathie? Can we return to the old friendship?"

She stood for a moment with averted face, watching the stars brighteningone by one in the evening sky. 

"No, " she said, presently, "we can never return to that now; it wouldseem too bare, too meagre. There will always be something deeper andsweeter than mere friendship between us, --unless you fail me, and I knowyou will not. "

"And do you forgive me?" he asked. 

She turned then, looking him full in the eyes, and her own seemed tohave caught the radiance of the stars themselves, as she answered, simply, --

"No, John Darrell, for there is nothing to forgive. "

_Chapter XVII_

"SHE KNOWS HER FATHER'S WILL IS LAW"

Though the succeeding days and weeks dragged wearily for Darrell, heapplied himself anew to work and study, and only the lurking shadowswithin his eyes, the deepening lines on his face, the fast multiplyinggleams of silver in his dark hair, gave evidence of his suffering. 

And if to Kate the summer seemed suddenly to have lost its glory andmusic, if she found the round of social pleasures on which she had justentered grown strangely insipid, if it sometimes seemed to her that shehad quaffed all the richness and sweetness of life on that wondrousfirst night till only the dregs remained, she gave no sign. With hersunny smile and lightsome ways she reigned supreme, both in society andin the home, and none but her aunt and Darrell missed the old-timerippling laughter or noted the deepening wistfulness and seriousness ofthe fair young face. 

Her father watched her with growing pride, and with a visiblesatisfaction which told of carefully laid plans known only to himself, whose consummation he deemed not far distant. 

Acting on the suggestion of his sister, he had been closely observant ofboth Kate and Darrell, but any conclusions which he formed he kept tohimself and went his way apparently well satisfied. 

At the close of an unusually busy day late in the summer Darrell wasseated alone in his office, reviewing his life in the West and vaguelywondering what would yet be the outcome of it all, when Mr. Underwoodentered from the adjoining room. Exultation and elation were patent inhis very step, but Darrell, lost in thought, was hardly conscious evenof his presence. 

"Well, my boy, what are you mooning over?" Mr. Underwood asked, good-naturedly, noting Darrell's abstraction. 

"Only trying to find a solution for problems as yet insoluble, " Darrellanswered, with a smile that ended in a sigh. 

"Stick to the practical side of life, boy, and let the problems solvethemselves. "

"A very good rule to follow, provided the problems would solvethemselves, " commented Darrell. 

"Those things generally work themselves out after a while, " said Mr. Underwood, walking up and down the room. "I say, don't meddle with whatyou can't understand; take what you can understand and make a practicalapplication of it. That's always been my motto, and if people wouldstick to that principle in commercial life, in religion, and everythingelse, there'd be fewer failures in business, less wrangling in thechurches, and more good accomplished generally. "

"I guess you are about right there, " Darrell admitted. 

"Been pretty busy to-day, haven't you?" Mr. Underwood asked, abruptly, after a short pause. 

"Yes, uncommonly so; work is increasing of late. "

"That's good. Well, it has been a busy day with us; rather an eventfulone, in fact; one which Walcott and I will remember with pleasure, Itrust, for a good many years to come. "

"How is that?" Darrell inquired, wondering at the pleasurable excitementin the elder man's tones. 

"We made a little change in the partnership to-day: Walcott is now anequal partner with myself. "

Darrell remained silent from sheer astonishment. Mr. Underwood evidentlyconsidered his silence an indication of disapproval, for he continued:

"I know you don't like the man, Darrell, so there's no use of arguingthat side of the question, but I tell you he has proved himselfinvaluable to me. You might not think it, but it's a fact that thebusiness in this office has increased fifty per cent. Since he came intoit. He is thoroughly capable, responsible, honest, --just the sort of manthat I can intrust the business to as I grow older and know that it willbe carried on as well as though I was at the helm myself. "

"Still, a half-interest seems pretty large for a man with no morecapital in the business than he has, " said Darrell, determined to makeno personal reference to Walcott. 

"He has put in fifty thousand additional since he came in, " Mr. Underwood replied. 

Darrell whistled softly. 

"Oh, he has money all right; I'm satisfied of that. I'm satisfied thathe could have furnished the money to begin with, only he was lying low. "

"Well, he certainly has nothing to complain of; you've done more thanwell by him. "

"No better proportionately than I would have done by you, my boy, if youhad come in with me last spring when I asked you to. I had this thing inview then, and had made up my mind you'd make the right man for theplace, but you wouldn't hear to it. "

"That's all right, Mr. Underwood, " said Darrell; "I appreciate your kindintentions just the same, but I am more than ever satisfied that Iwouldn't have been the right man for the place. "

Both men were silent for some little time, but neither showed anyinclination to terminate the interview. Mr. Underwood was still pacingback and forth, while Darrell had risen and was standing by the window, looking out absently into the street. 

"That isn't all of it, and I may as well tell you the rest, " said Mr. Underwood, suddenly pausing near Darrell, his manner much like aschool-boy who has a confession to make and hardly knows how to begin. "Mr. Walcott to-day asked me--asked my permission to pay his addressesto my daughter--my little girl, " he added, under his breath, and therewas a strange note of tenderness in the usually brusque voice. 

If ever Darrell was thankful, it was that he could at that moment lookthe father squarely in the face. He turned, facing Mr. Underwood, hisdark eyes fairly blazing. 

"And you gave your permission?" he asked, slowly, with terrible emphasison each word. 

"Most assuredly, " Mr. Underwood retorted, quickly, stung to self-defenceby Darrell's look and tone. "I may add that I have had this thing inmind for some time--have felt that it was coming; in fact, this newpartnership arrangement was made with a view to facilitate matters, andhe was enough of a gentleman to come forward at once with hisproposition. "

Darrell gazed out of the window again with unseeing eyes. "Mr. Underwood, " he said, in a low tone, "I would never have believed itpossible that your infatuation for that man would have led to this. "

"There is no infatuation about it, " the elder man replied, hotly; "it isa matter of good, sound judgment and business calculation. I know of noman among our townspeople, or even in the State, to whom I would give mydaughter as soon as I would to Walcott. There are others who may havelarger means now, but they haven't got his business ability. With what Ican give Puss, what he has now, and what he will make within the nextfew years, she will have a home and position equal to the best. "

"Is that all you think of, Mr. Underwood?"

"Not all, by any means; but it's a mighty important consideration, justthe same. But the man is all right morally; you, with all your prejudiceagainst him, can't lay your finger on one flaw in his character. "

"Mr. Underwood, " said Darrell, slowly, "I have studied that man, I haveheard him talk. He has no conception of life beyond the sensual, theanimal; he is a brute, a beast, in thought and act. He is no more fit tomarry your daughter, or even to associate with her, than----"

"Young man, " interrupted Mr. Underwood, laughing good-humoredly, "I haveonly one thing against you: you are not exactly practical. You are, likemy friend Britton, inclined to rather high ideals. We don't generallyfind men built according to those ideals, and we have to take 'em as wefind 'em. "

"But you will, of course, allow your daughter to act according to herown judgment? You surely would not force her into any marriagedistasteful to her?" Darrell asked, remembering Kate's aversion forWalcott. 

"A young girl's judgment in those matters is not often to be reliedupon. Kate knows that I consider only her best interests, and I thinkher judgment could be brought to coincide with my own. At any rate, sheknows her father's will is law. "

As Darrell, convinced that argument would be useless, made no reply, Mr. Underwood added, after a pause, --

"I know I can trust to your honor that you will not influence heragainst Walcott?"

"I shall not, of course, attempt to influence her one way or the other. I have no right; but if I had the right, --if she were my sister, --thatman should never so much as touch the hem of her garment!"

"My boy, " said Mr. Underwood, rather brusquely, extending one hand andlaying the other on Darrell's shoulder, "I understand, and you're allright. We all consider you one of ourselves, and, " he added, somewhatawkwardly, "you understand, if conditions were not just as they are----"

"But conditions are just as they are, " Darrell interposed, quickly, "sothere is no use discussing what might be were they different. "

The bitterness in his tones struck a chord of sympathy within the heartof the man beside him, but he knew not how to express it, and it isdoubtful whether he would have voiced it had he known how. The twoclasped hands silently; then, without a word, the elder man left theroom. 

Not until now had Darrell realized how strong had been the hope withinhis breast that some crisis in his condition might yet reveal enough tomake possible the fulfilment of his love. The pleasant relations betweenhimself and Kate in many respects still remained practically unchanged. True, his sense of honor forbade any return to the tender familiaritiesof the past, but there yet existed between them a tacit, unspokencomradeship, beneath which flowed, deeply and silently, the undercurrentof love, not to be easily diverted or turned aside. But this he now feltwould soon be changed, while all hope for the future must be abandoned. 

With a heavy heart Darrell awaited developments. He soon noted a markedincrease in the frequency of Walcott's calls at The Pines, and, notcaring to embarrass Kate by his presence, he absented himself from thehouse as often as possible on those occasions. 

Walcott himself must have been very soon aware that in his courtship Mr. Underwood was his sole partisan, but he bore himself with a confidenceand assurance which would brook no thought of defeat. Mrs. Dean, knowingher brother as she did, was quick to understand the situation, andsilently showed her disapproval; but Walcott politely ignored herdisfavor as not worth his consideration. 

At first, Kate, considering him her father's guest, received him withthe same frank, winning courtesy which she extended to others, and he, quick to make the most of every opportunity, exerted himself to theutmost in his efforts to entertain his young hostess and her friends. Toa certain extent he succeeded, in that Kate was compelled to admit toherself that he could be far more agreeable than she had ever supposed. He had travelled extensively and was possessed of good descriptivepowers; his voice was low and musical, and his eyes, limpid and tenderwhenever he fixed them upon her face, held her glance by someirresistible, magnetic force, and invariably brought the deepening colorto her cheeks. 

With the first inkling, however, of the nature of his visits, all herold abhorrence of him returned with increased intensity, but herill-concealed aversion only furnished him with a new incentive andspurred him to redouble his attentions. 

The only opposition encountered by him that appeared in the least todisturb his equanimity, was that of Duke, which was on all occasionsmost forcibly expressed, the latter never failing to greet him with alow growl, meeting all overtures of friendship with an ominous gleam inhis intelligent eyes and a display of ivory that made Mr. Walcott onlytoo willing to desist. 

"Really, Miss Underwood, " Walcott remarked one evening when Duke hadbeen more than usually demonstrative, "your pet's attentions to me aresometimes a trifle distracting. Could you not occasionally bestow thepleasure of his society upon some one else--Mr. Darrell, for instance? Iimagine the two might prove quite congenial to each other. "

"Please remember, Mr. Walcott, you are speaking of a friend of mine, "Kate replied, coldly. 

"Mr. Darrell? I beg pardon, I meant no offence; but since he and Dukeseem to share the same unaccountable antipathy towards myself, Inaturally thought there would be a bond of sympathy between them. "

Kate had been playing, and was still seated at the piano, idly waitingfor Walcott, who was turning the pages of a new music-book, to makeanother selection. She now rose rather wearily, and, leaving the piano, joined her father and aunt upon the veranda outside. 

Walcott pushed the music from him, and, taking Kate's mandolin from offthe piano, followed. Throwing himself down upon the steps at Kate's feetin an attitude of genuine Spanish abandon and grace, he said, lightly, --

"Since you will not favor us further, I will see what I can do. "

He possessed little technical knowledge of music, but had quite arepertoire of songs picked up in his travels in various countries, towhich he could accompany himself upon the guitar or mandolin. 

He strummed the strings carelessly for a moment, then, in a low voice, began a Spanish love-song. There was no need of an interpreter to makeknown to Kate the meaning of the song. The low, sweet cadences were fullof tender pleading, every note was tremulous with passion, while thedark eyes holding her own seemed burning into her very soul. 

But the spell of the music worked far differently from Walcott's hopesor anticipations. Even while angry at herself for listening, Kate couldscarcely restrain the tears, for the tender love-strains brought back sovividly the memory of those hours--so brief and fleeting--in which shehad known the pure, unalloyed joy of love, that her heart seemed nearbursting. As the last lingering notes died away, the pain was more thanshe could endure, and, pleading a slight headache, she excused herselfand went to her room. Throwing herself upon the bed, she gave way to herfeelings, sobbing bitterly as she recalled the sudden, hopeless endingof the most perfect happiness her young life had ever known. Graduallythe violence of her grief subsided and she grew more calm, but a dullpain was at her heart, for though unwilling to admit it even to herself, she was hurt at Darrell's absence on the occasions of Walcott's visits. 

"Why does he leave me when he knows I can't endure the sight of thatman?" she soliloquized, sorrowfully. "If he would stay by me thecreature would not dare make love to me. Oh, if we could only just belovers until all this dreadful uncertainty is past! I'm sure it wouldcome out all right, and I would gladly wait years for him, if only hewould let me!"

As she sat alone in her misery she heard Walcott take his departure. Alittle later Darrell returned and went to his room, and soon after sheheard her aunt's step in the hall, followed by a quiet knock at herdoor. 

"Come in, auntie, " she called, wondering what her errand might be. 

"Have you gone to bed, Katherine, or are you up?" Mrs. Dean inquired, for the room was dark. 

"I'm up; why, auntie?"

"Your father said to tell you he wanted to see you, if you had notretired. "

Mrs. Dean stopped a moment to inquire for Kate's headache, and as sheleft the room Kate heard her sigh heavily. 

A happy thought occurred to Kate as she ran downstairs, --she would haveher father put a stop to Walcott's attentions; if he knew how theyannoyed her he would certainly do it. She entered the room where hewaited with her sunniest smile, for the stern, gruff-voiced man was theidol of her heart and she believed implicitly in his love for her, eventhough it seldom found expression in words. 

But her smile faded before the displeasure in her father's face. Hescrutinized her keenly from under his heavy brows, but if he noted thetraces of tears upon her face, he made no comment. 

"I did not suppose, Kate, " he said, slowly, for he could not bringhimself to speak harshly to her, --"I did not suppose that a child ofmine would treat any guest of this house as rudely as you treated Mr. Walcott to-night. I sent for you for an explanation. "

"I did not mean to be rude, papa, " Kate replied, seating herself on herfather's knee and laying one arm caressingly about his neck, "but he didannoy me so to-night, --he has annoyed me so often of late, --I justcouldn't endure it any longer. "

"Has Mr. Walcott ever conducted himself other than as a gentleman?"

"Why, no, papa, he is gentlemanly enough, so far as that is concerned. "

"I thought so, " her father interposed; "I should say that he had laidhimself out to entertain you and your friends and to make it pleasantfor all of us whenever he has been here. It strikes me that his mannersare very far from annoying; that he is a gentleman in every sense of theword; he certainly carried himself like one to-night in the face of thetreatment you gave him. "

"Well, I'm sorry if I was rude. I have no objection to him as agentleman or as an acquaintance, if he would not go beyond that; but Idetest his attentions and his love-making, and he will not stop evenwhen he sees that it annoys me. "

"No one has a better right to pay his attentions to you, for he hasasked and received my permission to do so. "

Kate drew herself upright and gazed at her father with eyes full ofhorror. 

"You gave him permission to pay attention to me!" she exclaimed, slowly, as though scarcely comprehending his meaning; then, springing to herfeet and drawing herself to her full height, she demanded, --

"Do you mean, papa, that you intend me to marry him?"

For an instant Mr. Underwood felt ill at ease; Kate's face was white andher eyes had the look of a creature brought to bay, that sees no escapefrom the death confronting it, for even in that brief time Kate, knowingher father's indomitable will, realized with a sense of despair thehopelessness of her situation. 

"I suppose your marriage will be the outcome, --at least, I hope so, "her father replied, quickly recovering his composure, "for I certainlyknow of no one to whom I would so willingly intrust your futurehappiness. Listen to me, Kate: have I not always planned and worked foryour best interests?"

"You always have, papa. "

"Have I not always chosen what was for your good and for yourhappiness?"

Kate gave a silent assent. 

"Very well; then I think you can trust to my judgment in this case. "

"But, papa, " she protested, "this is different. I never can love thatman; I abhor him--loathe him! Do you think there can be any happiness orgood in a marriage without love? Would you and mamma have been happytogether if you had not loved each other?"

No sooner had she spoken the words than she regretted them as she notedthe look of pain that crossed her father's face. In his silent, undemonstrative way he had idolized his wife, and it was seldom that hewould allow any allusion to her in his presence. 

"I don't know why you should call up the past, " he said, after a pause, "but since you have I will tell you that your mother when a girl likeyourself objected to our marriage; she thought that we were unsuited toeach other and that we could never live happily together. She listened, however, to the advice of those older and wiser than she, and you knowthe result. " The strong man's voice trembled slightly. "I think ourmarried life was a happy one. It was for me, I know; I hope it was forher. "

A long silence followed. To Kate there came the memory of the frail, young mother lying, day after day, upon her couch in the solitude of hersick-room, often weeping silently, while she, a mere child, knelt sadlyand wistfully beside her, as silently wiping the tear-drops as they felland wondering at their cause. She understood now, but not for worldswould she have spoken one word to pain her father's heart. 

At last Mr. Underwood said, rising as though to end the interview, "Ithink I can depend upon you now, Kate, to carry out my wishes in thismatter. "

Kate rose proudly. "I have never disobeyed you, papa; I will treat Mr. Walcott courteously; but even though you force me to marry him I willnever, never love him, and I shall tell him so. "

Her father smiled. "Mr. Walcott, I think, has too much good sense toattach much weight to any girlish whims; that will pass, you will thinkdifferently by and by. "

As she stopped for her usual good-night kiss she threw her arms abouther father's neck, and, looking appealingly into his face, said, --

"Papa, it need not be very soon, need it? You are not in a hurry to berid of your little girl?"

"Don't talk foolishly, child, " he answered, hastily; "you know I've nowish to be rid of you, but I do want to see you settled in a home ofyour own--equal to the best, and, as I said a while ago, and told Mr. Darrell in talking the matter over with him, I know of no one in whosehands I would so willingly place you and your happiness as Mr. Walcott's. As for the date and other matters of that sort, " he added, playfully pinching her cheeks, "I suppose those will all be mutuallyarranged between the gentleman and yourself. "

Kate had started back slightly. "You have talked this over with Mr. Darrell?" she exclaimed. 

"Yes, why not?"

"What did he think of it?"

"Well, " said her father, slowly, "naturally he did not quite fall inwith my views, for I think he is not just what you could call adisinterested party. I more than half suspect that Mr. Darrell wouldlike to step into Mr. Walcott's place himself, if he were only eligible, but knowing that he is not, he is too much of a gentleman to commithimself in any way. "

Mr. Underwood scanned his daughter's face keenly as he spoke, but it wasas impassive as his own. To Kate, Darrell's absences of late were nowexplained; he understood it all. She kissed her father silently. 

"You know, Puss, I am looking out for your best interests in all ofthis, " said her father, a little troubled by her silence. 

"I know that is your intention, papa, " she replied, with gentle gravity, and left the room. 

_Chapter XVIII_

ON THE "DIVIDE"

Summer had merged into autumn. Crisp, exhilarating mornings ushered inglorious days flooded with sunshine, followed by sparkling, frostynights. 

The strike at the mining camp had been adjusted; the unionboarding-house after two months was found a failure and abandoned, andthe strikers gradually returned to their work. Mr. Underwood, during theshut-down, had improved the time to enlarge the mill and addconsiderable new machinery; this work was now nearly completed; in twoweeks the mill would again be running, and he offered Darrell his oldposition as assayer in charge, which the latter, somewhat to Mr. Underwood's surprise, accepted. 

Although his city business was now quite well established, Darrell feltthat life at The Pines was becoming unendurable. Walcott's visits werenow so frequent it was impossible longer to avoid him. The latter's airof easy self-assurance, the terms of endearment which fell so flippantlyfrom his lips, and his bold, passionate glances which never failed tobring the rich, warm blood to Kate's cheeks and brow, all to onepossessing Darrell's fine chivalric nature and his delicacy of feelingwere intolerable. In addition, the growing indications of Kate'sunhappiness, the silent appeal in her eyes, the pathetic curves formingabout her mouth, and the touch of pathos in the voice whose every tonewas music to his ear, seemed at times more than he could bear. 

There were hours--silent, brooding hours of the night--when he wassorely tempted to defy past and future alike, and, despite theconditions surrounding himself, to rescue her from a life which couldhave in store for her nothing but bitterness and sorrow. But with thedawn his better judgment returned; conscience, inexorable as ever, stillheld sway; he kept his own counsel as in duty bound, going his way witha heart that grew heavier day by day, and was hence glad of anopportunity to return once more to the seclusion of the mountains. 

Kate, realizing that all further appeal to her father was useless, as alast resort trusted to Walcott's sense of honor, that, when he shouldfully understand her feelings towards himself, he would discontinue hisattentions. But in this she found herself mistaken. Taking advantage ofthe courtesy which she extended to him in accordance with the promisegiven her father, he pressed his suit more ardently than ever. 

"Why do you persist in annoying me in this manner?" she demanded oneday, indignantly withdrawing from his attempted caresses. "The fact thatmy father has given you his permission to pay attention to me does notwarrant any such familiarity on your part. "

"Perhaps not, " Walcott replied, in his low, musical tones, "but stolenwaters are often sweetest. If I have offended, pardon. I supposed mylove for you would justify me in offering any expression of it, butsince you say I have no right to do so, I beg of you, my dear MissUnderwood, to give me that right. "

"That is impossible, " Kate answered, firmly. 

"Why impossible?" he asked. 

"Because I will not accept any expressions of a love that I cannotreciprocate. "

"Love begets love, " he argued, softly; "so long as you keep me at arm'slength you have no means of knowing whether or not you could reciprocatemy affection. Mr. Underwood has done me the great honor to consent tobestow his daughter's hand upon me, and I have no doubt of yet winningthe consent of the lady herself if she will but give me a fair chance. "

"Mr. Walcott, " said Kate, her eyes ablaze with indignation, "would youmake a woman your wife who did not love you--who never could, under anycircumstances, love you?"

Walcott suddenly seized her hands in his, looking down into her eyeswith his steady, dominant gaze. 

"If I loved her as I love you, " he said, slowly, "I would make her mywife though she hated me, --and win her love afterwards! I can win it, and I will!"

"Never!" Kate exclaimed, passionately, but he had kissed her hands andwas gone before she could recover herself. 

In that look she had for the first time comprehended something of theman's real nature, of the powerful brute force concealed beneath thesmooth, smiling exterior. Her heart seemed seized and held in avise-like grip, while a cold, benumbing despair settled upon her like anincubus, which she was unable to throw off for days. 

It lacked only two days of the time set for Darrell's return to themining camp when he and Kate set out one afternoon accompanied by Dukefor a ride up the familiar canyon road. At first their ponies canteredbriskly, but as the road grew more rough and steep they were finallycontent to walk quietly side by side. 

For a while neither Darrell nor Kate had much to say. Their hearts weretoo oppressed for words. Each realized that this little jaunt into themountains was their last together; that it constituted a sort offarewell to their happy life of the past summer and to each other. Eachwas thinking of their first meeting under the pines on that eveninggorgeous with the sunset rays and sweet with the breath of June roses. 

At last they turned into a trail which soon grew so steep and narrowthat they dismounted, and, fastening their ponies, proceeded up thetrail on foot. Slowly they wended their way upward, pausing at length ona broad, projecting ledge a little below the summit, where they seatedthemselves on the rocks to rest a while. Kate's eyes wandered afar overthe wonderful scene before them, wrapped in unbroken silence, yetpalpitating in the mellow, golden sunlight with a mysterious life andbeauty all its own. 

But Darrell was for once oblivious to the scene; his eyes were fastenedon Kate's face, a look in them of insatiable hunger, as though he werestoring up the memory of every line and lineament against the barrendays to come. He wondered if the silent, calm-faced, self-containedwoman beside him could be the laughing, joyous maiden whom he had seenflitting among the trees and fountains at their first meeting littlemore than three months past. He recalled how he had then thought herunlike either her father or her aunt, and believed her to be whollywithout their self-restraint and self-repression. Now he saw that thesame stoical blood was in her veins. Already the sensitive, mobile face, which had mirrored every emotion of the impulsive, sympathetic soulwithin, bore something of the impassive calm of the rocks surroundingthem; it might have been chiselled in marble, so devoid was it at thatmoment of any trace of feeling. 

A faint sigh seemed to break the spell, and she turned facing him withher old-time sunny smile. 

"What a regal day!" she exclaimed. 

"It is, " he replied; "it was on such a day as this, about a year ago, that I first met Mr. Britton. He called it, I remember, one of the'coronation days' of the year. I have been reminded of the phrase and ofhim all day. "

"Dear Mr. Britton, " said Kate, "I have not seen him for more than twoyears. He has always been like a second father to me; he used to have mecall him 'papa' when I was little, and I've always loved him next topapa. You and he correspond, do you not?"

"Yes; he writes rather irregularly, but his letters are precious to me. He was the first to make me feel that this cramped fettered life of mineheld any good or anything worth living for. He made me ashamed of myselfish sorrow, and every message from him, no matter how brief, seemslike an inspiration to something higher and nobler. "

"He makes us all conscious of our selfishness, " Kate answered, "for ifever there was an unselfish life, --a life devoted to the alleviation ofthe sufferings and sorrows of others, --it is his. I wish he were herenow, " she added, with a sigh; "he has more influence with papa than allthe rest of us combined, though perhaps nothing even he might say wouldbe availing in this instance. "

In all their friendly intercourse of the last few weeks there had beenone subject tacitly avoided by each, to which, although present in themind of each, no reference was ever made. From Kate's last words Darrellknew that subject must now be met; he must know from her own lips theworst. He turned sick with dread and remained silent. 

A moment later Kate again faced him with a smile, but her eyes glistenedwith unshed tears. 

"Poor papa!" she said, softly, her lips quivering; "he thinks he isdoing it all for my happiness, and no matter what wretchedness or miseryI suffer, no knowledge of it shall ever pain his dear old heart!"

"Kathie, must it be?" Darrell exclaimed, each word vibrating withanguish; "is there no hope--no chance of escape for you from such afate?"

"I cannot see the slightest reason to hope for escape, " she replied, with the calmness born of despair. She clasped her small hands tightlyand turned a pale, determined face towards Darrell. 

"You know, you understand it all, and I know that you do, " she said, "sothere is no use in our avoiding this any longer. I want to talk it overwith you and tell you all the truth, so you will not think, by and by, that I have been false or fickle or weak; but first there is something Iwant you to tell me. "

She paused a moment, then, looking him full in the eyes, she asked, earnestly, --

"John Darrell, do you still love me?"

Startled out of his customary self-control, Darrell suddenly clasped herin his arms, exclaiming, --

"Kathie darling, how can you ask such a question? Do you think my lovefor you could ever grow less?"

For a moment her head nestled against his breast with a little movementof ineffable content, as she replied, --

"No; it was not that I doubted your love, but I wanted an assurance ofit to carry with me through the coming days. "

Then, gently withdrawing herself from his embrace, she continued, in thesame calm, even tones:

"You ask if there is no chance of escape; I can see absolutely none;but I want you to understand, if I am forced into this marriage whichpapa has planned for me, that it is not through any weakness orcowardice on my part; that if I yield, it will be simply because of thelove and reverence I bear my father. "

Though her face was slightly averted, Darrell could see the tear-dropsfalling, but after a slight pause she proceeded as calmly as before:

"In all these years he has tried to be both father and mother to me, andeven in this he thinks he is acting for my good. I have never disobeyedhim, and were I to do so now I believe it would break his heart. I amall that he has left, and after what he has suffered in his silent, Spartan way, I must bring joy--not sorrow--to his declining years. Andthis will be my only reason for yielding. "

"But, Kathie, dear child, " Darrell interposed, "have you considered whatsuch a life means to you--what is involved in such a sacrifice?"

She met his troubled gaze with a smile. "Yes, I know, " she replied;"there is not a phase of this affair which I have not considered. I amyears older than when we met three months ago, and I have thought ofeverything that a woman can think of. "

She watched him a moment, the smile on her lips deepening. "Have youconsidered this?" she asked. "Only those whom we love have the power towound us deeply; one whom I do not love will have little power to hurtme; he can never reach my heart; that will be safe in your keeping. "

Darrell bowed his head upon his hands with a low moan. Kate, laying herhand lightly upon his shoulder, continued:

"What I particularly wanted you to know before our parting and toremember is this: that come what may, I shall never be false to my lovefor you. No matter what the future may bring to you or to me, my heartwill be yours. "

Darrell raised his head, his face tense and rigid with emotion; she hadrisen and was standing beside him. 

"I can never forgive myself for having won your heart, Kathie, " he said, gravely; "It is the most precious gift that I could ask or you couldbestow, but one to which I have no right. "

"Then hold it in trust, " she said, softly, "until such time as I havethe right to bestow it upon you and you have the right to accept it. "

Startled not only by her words but by the gravity of her tone andmanner, Darrell glanced swiftly towards Kate, but she had turned and wasslowly climbing the mountain path. Springing to his feet he was quicklyat her side. Drawing her arm within his own he assisted her up the rockytrail, scanning her face as he did so for some clew to the words she hadjust spoken. But, excepting a faint flush which deepened under hisscrutiny, she gave no sign, and, the trail for the next half-hour beingtoo difficult to admit of conversation, they made the ascent in silence. 

On reaching the summit an involuntary exclamation burst from Darrell atthe grandeur of the scene. North, west, and south, far as the eye couldreach, stretched the vast mountain ranges, unbroken, with here and theregigantic peaks, snow-crowned, standing in bold relief against the sky;while far to the eastward lay the valleys, threaded with silver streams, and beyond them in the purple distance outlines of other ranges scarcelydistinguishable from the clouds against which they seemed to rest. 

Kate watched Darrell, silently enjoying his surprise. "This is myfavorite resort, --on the summit of the 'divide, '" she said; "I thoughtyou would appreciate it. It involves hard climbing, but it is worth theeffort. "

"Worth the effort! Yes, a thousand times! What must it be to see thesunrise here!"

Lifted out of themselves, they wandered over the rocks, picking the lateflowers which still lingered in the crevices, watching the shiftingbeauty of the scene from various points, for a time forgetful of theirtrouble, till, looking in each other's eyes, they read the finalfarewell underlying all, and the old pain returned with tenfoldintensity. 

Seating themselves on the highest point accessible, they talked of thefuture, ignoring so far as possible the one dreaded subject, speaking ofDarrell's life in the mining camp, of his studies, and of what he hopedto accomplish, and of certain plans of her own. 

Duke, after an extended tour among the rocks, came and lay at theirfeet, watching their faces with anxious solicitude, quick to read theirunspoken sorrow though unable to divine its cause. 

At last the little that could be said had been spoken; they paused, their hearts oppressed with the burden of what remained unsaid, which nowords could express. Duke, perplexed by the long silence, rose and, coming to Kate's side, stood looking into her eyes with mute inquiry. AsKate caressed the noble head she turned suddenly to Darrell:

"John, would you like to have Duke with you? Will you take him as aparting gift from me?"

"I would like to have him above anything you could give me, Kathie, " hereplied; "but you must not think of giving him up to me. "

"I will have to give him up, " she said, simply; "Papa dislikes himalready, he is so unfriendly to Mr. Walcott, and he himself absolutelyhates Duke; I believe he would kill him if he dared; so you understand Icould not keep him much longer. He will be happy with you, for he lovesyou, and I will be happy in remembering that you have him. "

"In that case, " said Darrell, "I shall be only too glad to take him, andyou can rest assured I will never part with him. "

The sinking sun warned them that it was time to return, and, after onefarewell look about them, they prepared to descend. As they picked theirway back to the trail they came upon two tiny streams flowing from somesecret spring above them. Side by side, separated by only a few inches, they rippled over their rocky bed, murmuring to each other in tones solow that only an attentive ear could catch them, sparkling in thesunlight as though for very joy. Suddenly, near the edge of the narrowplateau over which they ran, they turned, and, with a tinkling plash offarewell, plunged in opposite directions, --the one eastward, hasteningon its way to the Great Father of Waters, the other westward bound, towards the land of the setting sun. 

Silently Kate and Darrell watched them; as their eyes met, his face hadgrown white, but Kate smiled, though the tears trembled on the goldenlashes. 

"A fit emblem of our loves, Kathie!" Darrell said, sadly. 

"Yes, " she replied, but her clear voice had a ring of triumph; "a fitemblem, dear, for though parted now, they will meet in the comminglingof the oceans, just as by and by our loves will mingle in the greatocean of love. I can imagine how those two little streams will go ontheir way, as we must go, each joining in the labor and song of therivers as they meet them, but each preserving its own individualityuntil they find one another in the ocean currents, as we shall find oneanother some day!"

"Kathie, " said Darrell, earnestly, drawing nearer to her, "have you sucha hope as that?"

"It is more than hope, " she answered, "it is assurance; an assurancethat came to me, I know not whence or how, out of the darkness ofdespair. "

They had reached the trail, and here Kate paused for a moment. It was apicture for an artist, the pair standing on that solitary height! Theyoung girl, fair and slender as the wild flowers clinging to the rocksat their feet, yet with a poise of conscious strength; the man at herside, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, strong-limbed; his face dark withdespair, hers lighted with hope. 

Suddenly a small white hand swept the horizon with a swift, undulatorymotion that reminded Darrell of the flight of some white-winged bird, and Kate cried, --

"Did we think of the roughness and steepness of the path below when westood here two hours ago and looked on the glory of this scene? Did westop to think of the bruises and scratches of the ascent, of how manytimes we had stumbled, or of the weariness of the way? No, it was allforgotten. And so, when we come to stand together, by and by, upon theheights of love, --such love as we have not even dreamed of yet, --will wethen look back upon the tears, the pain, the heartache of to-day? Willwe stop to recount the sorrows through which we climbed to the shiningheights? No, they will be forgotten in the excess of joy!"

Darrell gazed at Kate in astonishment; her head was uncovered and therays of the sinking sun touched with gleams of gold the curling lockswhich the breeze had blown about her face, till they seemed like agolden halo; she had the look of one who sees within the veil whichcovers mortal faces; she seemed at that moment something apart fromearth. 

Taking her hand in his, he asked, brokenly, "Sweetheart, will that dayever come, and when?"

Her eyes, luminous with love and hope, rested tenderly upon his shadowedface as she replied, --

"At the time appointed, "'And that will be God's own good time, for you and me. '"

_Chapter XIX_

THE RETURN TO CAMP BIRD

The day preceding Darrell's departure found him busily engaged in"breaking camp, " as he termed it. The assayer's outfit which he hadbrought from the mill was to be packed, as were also his books, andquantities of carefully written notes, the results of his explorationsand experiments, to be embodied later in the work which he had inpreparation, were to be sorted and filed. 

Late in the afternoon Kate and her aunt, down town on a shopping tour, looked in upon him. 

"Buried up to his ears!" Kate announced at the door, as she caught aglimpse of Darrell's head over a table piled high with books andmanuscripts; "it's well we came when we did, auntie; a few minutes laterand he would have been invisible!"

"Don't take the trouble to look for seats, Mr. Darrell, " she added, hereyes dancing with mischief as he hastily emerged and began a futilesearch for vacant chairs, "we only dropped in for a minute, and'standing room only' will be sufficient. "

"Yes, don't let us hinder you, Mr. Darrell, " said Mrs. Dean; "we justcame in to see how you were getting on, and to tell you not to troubleyourself about the things from the house; we will send and get themwhenever we want them. "

"I was thinking of those a while ago, " Darrell answered, glancing at thepictures and hangings which had not yet been removed; "I was wonderingif I ought not to send them up to the house. "

"No, " said Mrs. Dean, "we do not need them there at present, and anytime we should want them we can send Bennett down after them. "

"We will not send for them at all, auntie, " said Kate, in her impulsiveway; "I shall keep the room looking as much as possible as when Mr. Darrell had it, and I shall use it as a waiting-room whenever I have towait for papa; it will be much pleasanter than waiting in that dusty, musty old office of his. "

"My room at the camp will look very bare and plain now, " said Darrell, "after all the luxuries with which you have surrounded me; though Iwill, of course, get accustomed to it in a few days. "

Kate and her aunt slyly exchanged smiles, which Darrell in his momentaryabstraction failed to observe. They chatted pleasantly for a fewmoments, but underneath the light words and manner was a sadness thatcould not be disguised, and it was with a still heavier heart thatDarrell returned to his work after Kate and her aunt had gone. 

At last all was done, the last package was stowed away in the largewagon which was to carry the goods to camp, and the team moved up thestreet in the direction of The Pines, where it was to remain over nightready for an early start the next morning. Darrell, after a farewellsurvey of the little room, followed on foot, heartsick and weary, goingdirectly to the stables to see the wagon safely stored for the night. Hewas surprised to see a second wagon, loaded with furniture, rugs, andpictures, all of which looked strangely familiar, and which on closerinspection he recognized as belonging to the room which he had alwaysoccupied at The Pines. He turned to Bennett, who was standing at alittle distance, ostensibly cleaning some harness, but quietly enjoyingthe scene. 

"Bennett, what does this mean?" he inquired. "Where are these goodsgoing?"

"To the camp, sir. "

"Surely not to the mining camp, Bennett; you must be mistaken. "

"No mistake about it, sir; they goes to Camp Bird to-morrow morning;them's Mrs. Dean's orders. "

Darrell was more touched than he cared to betray. He went at once to thehouse, and in the hall, dim with the early twilight, was met by Mrs. Dean herself. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Darrell, " she began, "but you can't occupy your roomto-night; you'll have to take the one adjoining on the south. Your roomwas torn up to-day, and we haven't got it put to rights yet. "

"Mrs. Dean, " Darrell answered, his voice slightly unsteady, "you are tookind; it breaks a fellow all up and makes this sort of thing theharder!"

Mrs. Dean turned on the light as though for a better understanding. 

"I don't see any special kindness in turning you out of your room onyour last night here, " she remarked, quietly, "but we couldn't get itsettled. "

Darrell could not restrain a smile as he replied, "I'm afraid it will besome time before it is settled with the furniture packed out there inthe stables. "

"Have you been to the stables?" she exclaimed, in dismay. 

A smile was sufficient answer. 

"If that isn't too bad!" she continued; "I was going to have that wagonsent ahead in the morning before you were up and have it for a surprisewhen you got there, and now it's all spoiled. I declare, I'm toodisappointed to say a word!"

"But, Mrs. Dean, " Darrell interposed, hastily, as she turned to leave, "you need not feel like that; the surprise was just as genuine and aspleasant as though it had been as you intended; besides, I can thank younow, whereas I couldn't then. "

"That's just what I didn't want, and don't want now, " she answered, quickly; "if there is anything I can do for you, God knows I'll do itthe same as though you were my own son, and I want no thanks for it, either. " And with these words she left the room before Darrell couldreply. 

Everything that could be done to make the rooms look cheerful andhomelike as possible had been done for that night. The dining-room wasdecorated with flowers, and when, after dinner, the family adjourned tothe sitting-room, a fire was burning in the grate, and around it hadbeen drawn the most comfortable seats in the room. 

But to Darrell the extra touches of brightness and beauty seemed only toemphasize the fact that this was the last night of anything like homelife that he would know for some time to come. 

It had been agreed that he and Kate were to have some music thatevening, and on the piano he saw the violin which he had not used sincethe summer's happy days. He lifted it with the tender, caressing mannerwith which he always handled it, as though it were something living andhuman. Turning it lovingly in his hands, he caught the gleam ofsomething in the fire-light, and, bending over it, saw a richly engravedgold plate, on which he read the words:

 TO JOHN DARRELL A SOUVENIR OF "THE PINES" FROM "KATHIE"

A mist rose before his eyes--he could not see, he could not trusthimself to speak, but, raising the violin, his pent-up feelings burstforth in a flood of liquid music of such commingled sweetness andsadness as to hold his listeners entranced. Mr. Underwood, for onceforgetful of his pipe, looked into the fire with a troubled gaze; heunderstood little of the power of expression, but even he comprehendeddimly the sorrow that surged and ebbed in those wild harmonies. Mrs. Dean, her hands folded idly above her work, sat with eyes closed, asolitary tear occasionally rolling down her cheek, while in the shadowsKate, her face buried on Duke's head and neck, was sobbing quietly. 

Gradually the wild strains subsided, as the summer tempest dies awaytill nothing is heard but the patter of the rain-drops, and, after a fewbars from a love-song, a favorite of Kate's, the music glided into thesimple strains of "Home, Sweet Home. " And as the oppressed andoverheated atmosphere is cleared by the brief storm, so the overwroughtfeelings of those present were relieved by this little outburst ofemotion. 

A pleasant evening followed, and, except that the "good-nights"exchanged on parting were tenderer, more heartfelt than usual, therewere no indications that this was their last night together as a familycircle. 

Darrell had been in his room but a short time, however, when he heard alight tap at his door, and, opening it, Mrs. Dean entered. 

"You seem like a son to me, Mr. Darrell, " she said, with quiet dignity, "so I have taken the liberty to come to your room for a few minutes thesame as I would to a son's. "

"That is right, Mrs. Dean, " Darrell replied, escorting her to a largearm-chair; "my own mother could not be more welcome. "

"You know us pretty well by this time, Mr. Darrell, " she said, as sheseated herself, "and you know that we're not given to expressing ourfeelings very much, but I felt that I couldn't let you go away without afew words with you first. I sometimes think that those who can't expressthemselves are the ones that feel the deepest, though I guess we oftenget the credit of not having any feelings at all. "

"If I ever had such an impression of you or your brother, I found out myerror long ago, " Darrell remarked, gravely, as she paused. 

"Yes, I think you understand us; I think you will understand me, Mr. Darrell, when I say to you that I haven't felt anything so deeply inyears as I do your leaving us now--not so much the mere fact of yourgoing away as the real reason of your going. I felt bad when you leftfor camp a year ago, but this is altogether different; then you felt, and we felt, that you were one of us, that your home was with us, and Ihoped that as long as you remained in the West your home would be withus. Now, although there is no change in our love for you, or yours forus, I know that the place is no longer a home to you, that you do notcare to stay; and about the hardest part of it all is, that, knowing thecircumstances as I do, I myself would not ask you to stay. "

"You seem to understand the situation, Mrs. Dean; how did you learn thecircumstances?" Darrell asked, wonderingly. 

She regarded him a moment with a motherly smile. "Did you think I wasblind? I could see for myself. Katherine has told me nothing, " sheadded, in answer to the unspoken inquiry which she read in his eyes;"she has told me no more than you, but I saw what was coming long beforeeither you or she realized it. "

"Oh, Mrs. Dean, why didn't you warn me in time?" Darrell exclaimed. 

"The time for warning was when you two first met, " Mrs. Dean replied;"for two as congenial to be thrown together so constantly wouldnaturally result just as it has; it is no more than was to be expected, and neither of you can be blamed. And, " she added, slowly, "that is notthe phase of the affair which I most regret. I think such love as youtwo bear each other would work little harm or sorrow to either of you inthe end, if matters could only be left to take their own course. I mayas well tell you that I think no good will come of this scheme ofDavid's. Mr. Walcott is not a suitable man for Katherine, even if shewere heart free, and loving you as she does--as she always will, for Iunderstand the child--it would have been much better to have waited ayear or two; I have no doubt that everything would come out all right. Of course, as I'm not her mother, I have no say in the matter and noright to interfere; but mark my words: David will regret this, and at novery distant day, either. "

"I know that nothing but unhappiness can come of it for Kate, and thatis what troubles me far more than any sorrow of my own, " said Darrell, in a low voice. 

"It will bring unhappiness and evil all around, but to no one so much asDavid Underwood himself, " said Mrs. Dean, impressively, as she rose. 

"Mrs. Dean, " said Darrell, springing quickly to his feet, "you don'tknow the good this little interview has done me! I thank you for it andfor your sympathy from the bottom of my heart. "

"I wish I could give you something more practical than sympathy, " saidMrs. Dean, with a smile, "and I will if I ever have the opportunity. Andone thing in particular I want to say to you, Mr. Darrell: so long asyou are in the West, whether your home is with us or not, I want you tofeel that you have a mother in me, and should you ever be sick or introuble and need a mother's care and love, no matter where you are, Iwill come to you as I would to my own son. "

They had reached the door; Darrell, too deeply moved for speech andknowing her aversion to many words, bent over her and kissed her on theforehead. 

"Thank you, mother; good-night!" he said. 

She turned and looked at him with glistening eyes, as she replied, calmly, --

"Good-night, my son!"

The household was astir at an early hour the next morning. There wereforced smiles and some desultory conversation at the breakfast-table, but it was a silent group which gathered outside in the early morningsunlight as Darrell was about taking his departure. He dreaded theparting, and, as he glanced at the faces of the waiting group, hedetermined to make it as brief as possible for their sakes as well ashis own. 

The heavy teams came slowly around from the stables, and behind themcame Trix, daintily picking her steps along the driveway. With a word ortwo of instructions to the drivers Darrell sent the teams ahead; then, having adjusted saddle and bridle to his satisfaction, he turned to Mr. Underwood, who stood nearest. 

"My boy, " said the latter, extending his hand, "we hate to spare youfrom the old home, but I don't know where I would have got a man totake your place; with you up there I feel just as safe as though I werethere myself. "

"Much obliged, Mr. Underwood, " Darrell replied, looking straight intothe elder man's eyes; "I think you'll find me worthy of any trust youmay repose in me--at the camp or elsewhere. "

"Every time, my boy, every time!" exclaimed the old gentleman, wringinghis hand. 

Mrs. Dean's usually placid face was stern from her effort to repress herfeelings, but there was a glance of mother-love in her eyes and a slightquivering of her lips as she bade him a quiet good-by. 

But it was Kate's pale, sweet face that nearly broke his own composureas he turned to her, last of all. Their hands clasped and they lookedsilently into each other's eyes for an instant. 

"Good-by, John; God bless you!" she said, in tones audible only to hisear. 

"God bless and help you, Kathie!" he replied, and turned quickly to Trixwaiting at his side. 

"Look at Duke, " said Kate, a moment later, as Darrell sprang into thesaddle; "he doesn't know what to make of it that you haven't bade himgood-by. "

Duke, who had shown considerable excitement over the unusualproceedings, had bounded to Kate's side as Darrell approached her, expecting his usual recognition; not having received it, he satregarding Darrell with an evident sense of personal injury quitepathetic. 

Darrell looked at the drooping head and smiled. "Come, Duke, " he said, slowly starting down the driveway. 

Kate bent quickly for a final caress. "Go on, Duke!" she whispered. 

Nothing loath to follow Darrell, he bounded forward, but after a fewleaps, on discovering that his beloved mistress was not accompanyingthem, he stopped, looking back in great perplexity. At a signal from herand a word from Darrell he again started onward, but his backwardglances were more than Kate could bear, and she turned to go into thehouse. 

"What are you sending the dog after him for, anyway?" inquired herfather, himself somewhat puzzled. 

"I have given Duke to Mr. Darrell, papa, " she replied. 

Something in the unnatural calmness of her tone startled him; he turnedto question her. She had gone, but in the glimpse which he had of herface he read a little of the anguish which at that moment wrung heryoung heart, and happening at the same time to catch his sister's eye, he walked away, silent and uncomfortable. 

_Chapter XX_

FORGING THE FETTERS

During the weeks immediately following Darrell's departure the dailyroutine of life at The Pines continued in the accustomed channels, butthere was not a member of the family, including Mr. Underwood himself, to whom it did not seem strangely empty, as though some essentialelement were missing. 

To Kate her present life, compared with the first months of her returnhome, was like the narrow current creeping sluggishly beneath the icyfetters of winter as compared with the same stream laughing and singingon its way under summer skies. But she was learning the lesson that allmust learn; that the world sweeps relentlessly onward with no pause forindividual woe, and each must keep step in its ceaseless march, nomatter how weary the brain or how heavy the heart. 

Walcott's visits continued with the same frequency, but he was lessannoying in his attentions than formerly. It had gradually dawned uponhim that Kate was no longer a child, but a woman; and a woman with awill as indomitable as her father's once it was aroused. He was notdispleased at the discovery; on the contrary, he looked forward with allthe keener anticipation to the pleasure of what he mentally termed the"taming" process, once she was fairly within his power. Meantime, he wascontent to make a study of her, sitting evening after evening either inconversation with her father or listening while she played and sang, but always watching her every movement, scanning every play of herfeatures. 

"A loose rein for the present, " he would say to himself, with a smile;"but by and by, my lady, you will find whether or no I am master!"

He seldom attempted now to draw her into a tête à tête conversation, butfinding her one evening sitting upon a low divan in one of thebay-windows looking out into the moonlight, he seated himself beside herand began one of his entertaining tales of travel. An hour or morepassed pleasantly, and Walcott inquired, casually, --

"By the way, Miss Underwood, what has become of my four-footed friend? Ihave not seen him for three weeks or more, and his attentions to me wereso marked I naturally miss them. "

"Duke is at the mining camp, " Kate answered, with a faint smile. 

Walcott raised his eyebrows incredulously. "Possible! With my otheradmirer, Mr. Darrell?"

"He is with Mr. Darrell. "

"Accept my gratitude, Miss Underwood, for having made my entrée to yourhome much pleasanter, not to say safer. "

"I neither claim nor accept your gratitude, Mr. Walcott, " Kate replied, with cool dignity, "since I did it simply out of regard for Duke'swelfare and not out of any consideration whatever for your wishes in thematter. "

"I might have known as much, " said Walcott, with a mock sigh ofresignation, settling back comfortably among the pillows on the divanand fixing his eyes on Kate's face; "I might have known thatconsideration for any wish of mine could never by any chance be assignedas the motive for an act of yours. "

Kate made no reply, but the lines about her mouth deepened. For a momenthe watched her silently; then he continued slowly, in low, nonchalanttones:

"I am positive that when I at last gain your consent to marry me, "--hepaused an instant to note the effect of his words, but there was not thequiver of an eyelash on her part, --"even then, you will have theaudacity to tell me that you gave it for any other reason under heaventhan consideration for me or my wishes. "

"Mr. Walcott, " said Kate, facing him with sudden hauteur of tone andmanner, "you are correct. If ever I consent to marry you I can tell younow as well as then my reason for doing so: it will be simply and solelyfor my dear father's sake, for the love I bear him, out of considerationfor his wishes, and with no more thought of you than if you did notexist. "

Conflicting emotions filled Walcott's breast at these words, but hepreserved a calm, smiling exterior. He could not but admire Kate'sspirit; at the same time the thought flashed through his mind that thisapparent slip of a girl might prove rather difficult to "tame;" but hereflected that the more difficult, the keener would be his enjoyment ofthe final victory. 

"A novel situation, surely!" he commented, with a low, musical laugh;"decidedly unique!"

"But, my dear Miss Underwood, " he continued, a moment later, "if yourlove for your father and regard for his wishes are to constitute yoursole reasons for consenting to become my wife, why need you withholdthat consent longer? I am sure his wishes in the matter will remainunchanged, as will also your love for him; why then should our marriagebe further delayed?"

"After what I have just told you, Mr. Walcott, do you still ask me tobe your wife?" Kate demanded, indignantly. 

"I do, Miss Underwood; and, pardon me, I feel that you have trifled withme long enough; I must have your answer. "

She rose, drawing herself proudly to her full height. 

"Take me to my father, " she said, imperiously. 

Walcott offered his arm, which she refused with a gesture of scorn, andthey proceeded to the adjoining room, where Mr. Underwood and his sisterwere seated together before the fire. As Kate advanced towards herfather both looked up simultaneously, and each read in her white faceand proud bearing that a crisis was at hand. Mrs. Dean at once arose andnoiselessly withdrew from the room. 

Walcott paused at a little distance from Mr. Underwood, assuming agraceful attitude as he leaned languidly over the large chair justvacated by Mrs. Dean, but Kate did not stop till she reached herfather's side, where she bowed coldly to Walcott to proceed with what hehad to say. 

"Some time ago, Mr. Underwood, " he began, smoothly and easily, "I askedyou for your daughter's hand in marriage, and you honored me with yourconsent. Since that time I have paid my addresses to Miss Underwood inso marked a manner as to leave her no room for doubt or misunderstandingregarding my intentions, although, finding that she was not inclined tolook upon me with favor, I have hitherto refrained from pressing mysuit. Feeling now that I have given her abundance of time I have thisevening asked her to become my wife, and insisted that I was entitled toa decision. Instead, however, of giving me a direct answer, she hassuggested that we refer the matter to yourself. "

"How is this, Kate?" her father asked, not unkindly; "I supposed you andI had settled this matter long ago. "

Her voice was clear, her tones unfaltering, as she replied: "Beforegiving my answer I wanted to ask you, papa, for the last time, whether, knowing the circumstances as you do and how I regard Mr. Walcott, it isstill your wish that I marry him?"

"It is; and I expect my child to be governed by my wishes in this matterrather than by her own feelings. "

"Have I ever gone contrary to your wishes, papa, or disobeyed you?"

"No, my child, no!"

"Then I shall not attempt it at this late day. I only wanted to be surethat this was still your wish. "

"I desire it above all things, " said Mr. Underwood, delighted to findKate so ready to accede to his wishes, rising and taking her hand inhis; "and the day that I see my little girl settled in the home whichshe will receive as a wedding-gift from her old father will be theproudest and happiest day of my life. "

Kate smiled sadly. "No home can ever seem to me like The Pines, papa, but I appreciate your kindness, and I want you to know that I am takingthis step solely for your happiness. "

She then turned, facing Walcott, who advanced slightly, while Mr. Underwood made a movement as though to place her hand in his. 

"Not yet, papa, " she said, gently; then, addressing Walcott, shecontinued:

"Mr. Walcott, this must be my answer, since you insist upon having one:Out of love for him who has been both father and mother to me, out ofreverence for his gray hairs frosted by the sorrows of earlier years, out of regard for his wishes, which have always been my law, --for hissake only, --I consent to become your wife upon one condition. "

"Name it, " Walcott replied. 

"There can be no love between us, either in our engagement or ourmarriage, for, as I have told you, I can never love you, and youyourself are incapable of love in its best sense; you have not even theslightest knowledge of what it is. For this reason any token of lovebetween us would be only a mockery, a farce, and true wedded love issomething too holy, too sacred, to be travestied in any such manner. Iconsent to our marriage, therefore, only upon this condition: that wehenceforth treat each other simply with kindness and courtesy; that noexpressions of affection or endearment are to be used by either of us tothe other, and that no word or sign of love ever pass between us. "

"Kate, " interposed her father, sternly, "this is preposterous! I cannotallow such absurdity;" but Walcott silenced him with a deprecatory waveof his hand, and, taking Kate's hand in his, replied, with smilingindifference, --

"I accept the condition imposed by Miss Underwood, since it is no moreunique than the entire situation, and I congratulate her upon herdecided originality. I suppose, " he added, addressing Kate, at the sametime producing a superb diamond ring, "you will not object to wearingthis?"

"I yield that much to conventionality, " she replied, allowing him toplace it on her finger; "there is no need to advertise the situationpublicly; besides, it is a fitting symbol of my future fetters. "

"Conventionality, I believe, would require that it be placed on yourhand with a kiss and some appropriate bit of sentiment, but since thatsort of thing is tabooed between us, we will have to dispense with thatpart of the ceremony. "

Then turning to Mr. Underwood, who stood looking on frowningly, somewhattroubled by the turn matters had taken, Walcott added, playfully, --

"According to the usual custom, I believe the next thing on theprogramme is for you to embrace us and give us a father's blessing, butmy lady might not approve of anything so commonplace. "

Before her father could reply Kate spoke for him, glancing at him withan affectionate smile:

"Papa is not one of the demonstrative sort, and he and I need nodemonstration of our love for each other; do we, dear?"

"No, child, we understand each other, " said her father, reseatinghimself, with Kate in her accustomed place on the arm of his chair, while Walcott took the large chair on the other side of the fire; "andyou neither of you need any assurance of my good wishes or goodintentions towards you; but, " he continued, doubtfully, shaking hishead, "I don't quite like the way you've gone about this business, Puss. "

"It was the only way for me, papa, " Kate answered, gravely anddecidedly. 

"I admit, " said Walcott, "it will be quite a departure from the mode ofprocedure ordinarily laid down for newly engaged and newly weddedcouples; but really, come to think it over, I am inclined to think thatMiss Underwood's proposition will save us an immense amount of boredomwhich is the usual concomitant of engagements and honeymoons. That sortof thing, you know, " he added, his lip curling just perceptibly, "is aptto get a little monotonous after a while. "

Kate, watching him from under level brows, saw the slight sneer andinwardly rejoiced at the stand she had taken. 

"Well, " said Mr. Underwood, resignedly, "fix it up between you any wayto suit yourselves; but for heaven's sake, don't do anything to causecomment or remarks!"

"Papa, you can depend on me not to make myself conspicuous in any way, "Kate replied, with dignity. "What I have said to-night was said simplyto let you and Mr. Walcott know just where I stand, and just what youmay, and may not, expect of me; but this is only between us three, andyou can rest assured that I shall never wear my heart upon my sleeve ortake the public into my confidence regarding my home life. "

"I think myself you need have no fear on that score, Mr. Underwood, "Walcott remarked, with a smile of amusement; "I believe Miss Underwoodis entirely capable of carrying out to perfection any rôle she mayassume, and if she chooses to take the part of leading lady in thelittle comedy of 'The Model Husband and Wife, I shall be only toodelighted to render her any assistance within my power. "

As Walcott bade Kate good-night at a late hour he inquired, "What do youthink of the little comedy I suggested to-night for our future line ofaction? Does it meet with your approval?"

She was quick to catch the significance of the question, and, lookinghim straight in the eyes, she replied, calmly, --

"It will answer as well as any, I suppose; but it has in it more of theelements of tragedy than of comedy. "

_Chapter XXI_

TWO CRIMES BY THE SAME HAND

At Walcott's request the date of the wedding was set early in January, he having announced that business would call him to the South the firstweek in December for about a month, and that he wished the wedding totake place immediately upon his return. 

The announcement of the engagement and speedily approaching marriage ofthe daughter of D. K. Underwood to his junior partner caused a ripple ofexcitement throughout the social circles of Ophir and Galena. Thoughlittle known, Walcott was quite popular. It was therefore generallyconceded that the shrewd "mining king, " as Mr. Underwood was denominatedin that region, had selected a party in every way eligible as the futurehusband of the sole heiress of his fortune. Kate received thecongratulations showered upon her with perfect equanimity, but with ashade of quiet reserve which effectually distanced all undue familiarityor curiosity. 

Through the daily paper which found its way to the mining camp Darrellreceived his first news of Kate's engagement. It did not come as asurprise, however; he knew it was inevitable; he even drew a sigh ofrelief that the blow had fallen, for a burden is far more easily borneas an actual reality than by anticipation, and applied himself with analmost dogged persistency to his work. 

The winter set in early and with unusual severity. The snowfall in themountains was heavier than had been known in years. Much of the timethe canyon road was impassable, making it impracticable for Darrell tovisit The Pines with any frequency, even had he wished to do so. 

The weeks passed, and ere he was aware the holidays were at hand. Byspecial messenger came a little note from Kate informing him ofWalcott's absence and begging him to spend Christmas at the old home. There had been a lull of two or three days in the storm, the messengerreported the road somewhat broken, and early on the morning precedingChristmas the trio, Darrell, Duke, and Trix, started forth, and, after atwelve hours' siege, arrived at The Pines wet, cold, and thoroughlyexhausted, but all joyfully responsive to the welcome awaiting them. 

Christmas dawned bright and clear; tokens of love and good will aboundedon every side, but at an early hour news came over the wires whichshocked and saddened all who heard, particularly the household at ThePines. There had been a hold-up on the west-bound express the precedingnight, a few miles from Galena, in which the mail and express had beenrobbed, and the express clerk, a brave young fellow who stanchly refusedto open the safe or give the combination, had been fatally stabbed. Itwas said to be without doubt the work of the same band that hadconducted the hold-up in which Harry Whitcomb had lost his life, as itwas characterized by the same boldness of plan and cleverness ofexecution. 

The affair brought back so vividly to Mr. Underwood and the family thedetails of Harry's death that it cast a shadow over the Christmasfestivities, which seemed to deepen as the day wore on. Outside, too, gathering clouds, harbingers of coming storm, added to the generalgloom. 

It was with a sense of relief that Darrell set out at an early hour thefollowing morning for the camp. He realized as never before that theplace teemed with painful memories whose very sweetness tortured hissoul until he almost wished that the months since his coming to ThePines might be wrapped in the same oblivion which veiled his life up tothat period. He was glad to escape from its depressing influence and toreturn to the camp with its routine of work and study. 

This second winter of Darrell's life at camp was far more normal andhealthful than the first. His love and sympathy for Kate hadunconsciously drawn him out of himself, making him less mindful of hisown sorrow and more susceptible to the sufferings of others. To the menat the camp he was far different, interesting himself in their welfarein numerous ways where before he had ignored them. The unusual severityof the winter had caused some sickness among them, and it was nothinguncommon for Darrell to go of an evening to the miners' quarters withmedicines, newspapers, and magazines for the sick and convalescent. 

He was returning from one of these expeditions late one evening aboutten days after Christmas, accompanied by the collie. It had been snowinglightly and steadily all day and the snow was still falling. Darrell waswhistling softly to himself, and Duke, who showed a marvellousadaptation to Darrell's varying moods, catching the cue for his ownconduct, began to plunge into the freshly fallen snow, wheeling anddarting swiftly towards Darrell as though challenging him to awrestling-match. Darrell gratified his evident wish and they tumbledpromiscuously in the snow, emerging at length from a big drift near theoffice, their coats white, Duke barking with delight, and Darrelllaughing like a school-boy. 

Shaking themselves, they entered the office, but no sooner had theystepped within than the collie bounded to the door of the next roomwhere he began a vigorous sniffing and scratching, accompanied by aseries of short barks. As Darrell, somewhat puzzled by his actions, opened the door, he saw a figure seated by the fire, which rose andturned quickly, revealing to his astonished gaze the tall form andstrong, sweet face of John Britton. 

For a moment the two men stood with clasped hands, looking into eachother's eyes with a satisfaction too deep for words. 

After an affectionate scrutiny of his young friend Mr. Britton resumedhis seat, remarking, --

"You are looking well--better than I have ever seen you; and I was gladto hear that laughter outside; it had the right ring to it. "

"Duke was responsible for that, " Darrell answered, with a smiling glanceat the collie who had stationed himself by the fire and near Mr. Britton; "he challenged me to wrestle with him, and got rather the worstof it. "

A moment later, having divested himself of his great coat, he drew asecond seat before the fire, saying, --

"You evidently knew where to look for me?"

"Yes, your last letter, which, by the way, followed me for nearly sixweeks before reaching me, apprised me of your return to the camp. I wassomewhat surprised, too, after you had established yourself so well intown. "

"It was best for me--and for others, " Darrell answered; then, noting theinquiry in his friend's eyes, he added:

"It is a long story, but it will keep; there will be plenty of time forthat later. Tell me of yourself first. For two months I have hungeredfor word from you, and now I simply want to listen to you a while. "

Mr. Britton smiled. "I owe you an apology, but you know I am a poorcorrespondent at best, and of late business has called me here and thereuntil I scarcely knew one day where I would be the next; consequently Ihave received my mail irregularly and have been irregular myself inwriting. "

Darrell's face grew tender, for he knew it was not business alone whichdrove his friend from place to place, but the old pain which foundrelief only in ceaseless activity and an equally unceasing beneficence. He well knew that many of his friend's journeys were purely of aphilanthropic nature, and he remarked, with a peculiar smile, --

"Your travels always remind me very forcibly of the journey of the goodSamaritan; when he met a case of suffering on the way he was not the oneto 'pass by on the other side;' nor are you. "

"Perhaps, " said Mr. Britton, gravely, "he had found, as others havesince, that pouring oil and wine into his neighbor's wounds was thesurest method of assuaging the pain in some secret wound of his own. "

Darrell watched his friend closely while he gave a brief account of hisrecent journeys along the western coast. Never before had he seen thelines of suffering so marked upon the face beside him as that night. Something evidently had reopened the old wound, causing it to throbanew. 

"I need not ask what has brought you back into the mountains at thistime of year and in this storm, " Darrell remarked, as his friendconcluded. 

For answer Mr. Britton drew from his pocket an envelope which Darrellat once recognized as a counterpart of one which had come to him someweeks before, but which he had laid away unopened, knowing only too wellits contents. 

"I am particularly glad, for Miss Underwood's sake, that you are here, "he said; "she feared you might not come, and it worried her. "

"Which accounts for the importunate little note which accompanied theinvitation, " said Mr. Britton, with a half-smile; "but I would have madeit a point to be present in any event; why did she doubt my coming?"

"Because of the season, I suppose, and the unusual storms; then, too, "Darrell spoke with some hesitation, "she told me she believed you had asort of aversion to weddings. "

"She was partly right, " Mr. Britton said, after a pause; "I have notbeen present at a wedding ceremony for more than twenty-five years--notsince my own marriage, " he added, slowly, in a low tone, as thoughmaking a confession. 

Darrell's heart throbbed painfully; it was the first allusion he hadever heard the other make to his own past, and from his tone and mannerDarrell knew that he himself had unwittingly touched the great, hiddensorrow in his friend's life. 

"Forgive me!" he said, with the humility and simplicity of a child. 

"I have nothing to forgive, " Mr. Britton replied, gently, fixing hiseyes with a look of peculiar affection upon Darrell's face. "You knowmore now, my son, than the whole world knows or has known in all theseyears; and some day in the near future you shall know all, because, forsome inexplicable reason, you, out of the whole world, seem nearest tome. "

A few moments later he resumed, with more of his usual manner, "I am notquite myself to-night. The events of the last few days have rather upsetme, and, " with one of his rare smiles, "I have come to you to getrighted. "

"To me?" Darrell exclaimed. 

"Yes; why not?"

"I am but your pupil, --one who is just beginning to look above his ownselfish sorrows only through the lessons you have taught him. "

"You over-estimate the little I have tried to do for you; but were iteven as you say, I would come to you and to no one else. To whom did theDivine Master himself turn for human sympathy in his last hours of griefand suffering but to his little band of pupils--his disciples? And inproportion as they had learned of Him and imbibed His spirit, in justthat proportion could they enter into his feelings and minister to hissoul. "

Mr. Britton had withdrawn the cards from the envelope and was regardingthem thoughtfully. 

"The receipt of those bits of pasteboard, " he said, slowly, "unmanned memore than anything that has occurred in nearly a score of years. Theycalled up long-forgotten scenes, --little pathetic, heart-rendingmemories which I thought buried long ago. I don't mind confessing toyou, my boy, that for a while I was unnerved. It did not seem as thoughI could ever bring myself to hear again the music of wedding-bells andwedding-marches, to listen to the old words of the marriage service. Butfor the sake of one who has seemed almost as my own child I throttledthose feelings and started for the mountains, resolved that noselfishness of mine should cloud her happiness on her wedding day. Icame, to find, what I would never have believed possible, that my oldfriend would sacrifice his child's happiness, all that is sweetest andholiest in her life, to gratify his own ambition. I cannot tell you theshock it was to me. D. K. Underwood and I have been friends for manyyears, but that did not prevent my talking plainly with him--so plainlythat perhaps our friendship may never be the same again. But it was ofno avail, and the worst is, he has persuaded himself that he is actingfor her good, when it is simply for the gratification of his own pride. I could not stay there; the very atmosphere seemed oppressive; so I cameup here for a day or two, as I told you, to get righted. "

"And you came to me to be righted, " Darrell said, musingly; "'Can theblind lead the blind?'"

Mr. Britton was quick to catch the significance of he other's query. 

"Yes, John, " he answered, covering Darrell's hand with his own; "I cameto you for the very reason that your hurt is far deeper than mine. "

Under the magnetism of that tone and touch Darrell calmly and in fewwords told his story and Kate's, --the story of their love and briefhappiness, and of the wretchedness which followed. 

"For a while I constantly reproached myself for having spoken to her oflove, " he said, in conclusion; "for having awakened her love, as Ithought, by my own; but gradually I came to see that she had loved me, as I had her, unconsciously, almost from our first meeting, and that theawakening must in any event have come sooner or later to each of us. Then it seemed as though my suffering all converged in sorrow for her, that her life, instead of being gladdened by love, should be saddenedand marred, perhaps wrecked, by it. "

"Love works strange havoc with human lives sometimes, " Mr. Brittonremarked, reflectively, as Darrell paused. 

"I was tempted at times, " Darrell continued, "as I thought of what wasin store for her, to rescue her at any cost; tempted to take her and gowith her to the ends of the earth, if necessary; anywhere, to save herfrom the life she dreads. "

"Thank God that you did not, my son!" Mr. Britton exclaimed, strangelyagitated by Darrell's words; "you do not know what the cost might havebeen in the end; what bitter remorse, what agony of ceaseless regret!"

He stopped abruptly, and again Darrell felt that he had looked for aninstant into those depths so sacredly guarded from the eyes of theworld. 

"You did well to leave as you did, " Mr. Britton said, after a moment'ssilence, in which he had regained his composure. 

"I had to; I should have done something desperate if I had remainedthere much longer. "

Darrell spoke quietly, but it was the quiet of suppressed passion. 

"It was better so--better for you both, " Mr. Britton continued; "when wefind ourselves powerless to save our loved ones from impending trouble, all that is left us is to help them bear that trouble as best we may. The best help you can give Kate now is to take yourself as completely aspossible out of her life. How you can best help her later time alonewill show. "

A long silence followed, while both watched the flickering flames andlistened to the crooning of the wind outside. When at length they spokeit was on topics of general interest; the outlook at the mining camp, the latest news in the town below, till their talk at last drifted tothe recent hold-up. 

"A dastardly piece of work!" exclaimed Mr. Britton. "The death of thatyoung express clerk was in some ways even sadder than that of HarryWhitcomb. I knew him well; the only child of a widowed mother; a poorboy who, by indomitable energy and unswerving integrity, had justsucceeded in securing the position which cost him his life. Two suchbrutal, cowardly murders ought to arouse the people to such systematic, concerted action as would result in the final arrest and conviction ofthe murderer. "

"It is the general opinion that both were committed by one and the sameparty, " Darrell remarked, as his friend paused. 

"Undoubtedly both were the work of the same hand, in all probabilitythat of the leader himself. He is a man capable of any crime, probablyguilty of nearly every crime that could be mentioned, and his men aremere tools in his hands. He exerts a strange power over them and theyobey him, knowing that their lives would pay the forfeit fordisobedience. Human life is nothing to him, and any one who stood in theway of the accomplishment of his purposes would simply go the way thosetwo poor fellows have gone. "

"Why, do you know anything regarding this man?" Darrell asked insurprise. 

"Only so far as I have made a study of him and his methods, aided bywhatever information I could gather from time to time concerning him. "

"Surely, you are not a detective!" Darrell exclaimed; "you spoke likeone just now. "

"Not professionally, " his friend answered, with a smile; "though I haveoften assisted in running down criminals. I have enough of the houndnature about me, however, that when a scent is given me I delight infollowing the trail till I run my game to cover, as I hope some day torun this man to cover, " he added, with peculiar earnestness. 

"But how did you ever gain so much knowledge of him? To every one elsehe seems an utter mystery. "

"Partly, as I said, through a study of him and his methods, and partlyfrom facts which I learned from one of the band who was fatally shot afew years ago in a skirmish between the brigands and a posse ofofficials. The man was deserted by his associates and was brought totown and placed in a hospital. I did what I could to make the poorfellow comfortable, with the result that he became quite communicativewith me, and, while in no way betraying his confederates, he gave memuch interesting information regarding the band and its leader. It is athoroughly organized body of men, bound together by the most fearfuloaths, possessing a perfect system of signals and passwords, and with aretreat in the mountains, known as the 'Pocket, ' so inaccessible to anybut themselves that no one as yet has been able even to definitelylocate it--a sort of basin walled about by perpendicular rocks. Theleader is a man of mixed blood, who has travelled in all countries andknows many dark secrets, and whose power lies mainly in the mystery withwhich he surrounds himself. No one knows who he is, but many of his menbelieve him to be the very devil personified. "

"But how can you or any one else hope to run down a man with suchpowerful followers and with a hiding-place so inaccessible?" Darrellinquired. 

"From a remark inadvertently dropped, I was led to infer that this manspends comparatively little time with the band. He communicates withthem, directs them, and personally conducts any especially bold ordifficult venture; but most of the time he is amid far differentsurroundings, leading an altogether different life. "

"One of those men with double lives, " Darrell commented. 

Mr. Britton bowed in assent. 

"But if that were so, " Darrell persisted, his interest thoroughlyaroused, as much by Mr. Britton's manner as by his words, "in the event, say, of your meeting him, how would you be able to recognize or identifyhim? Have you any clew to his identity?"

"Years ago, " said Mr. Britton, slowly, "I formed the habit of studyingpeople; at first as I met them; later as I heard or read of them. Factsgathered here and there concerning a person's life I put together, pieceby piece, studying his actions and the probable motives governing thoseactions, until I had a mental picture of the real man, the 'ego' thatconstitutes the foundation of the character of every individual. Havingthat fixed in my mind I next strove to form an idea of the exteriorwhich that particular 'ego' would gradually build about himself throughhis habits of thought and speech and action. In this way, by a carefulstudy of a man's life, I can form something of an idea of hisappearance. I have often put this to the test by visiting variouspenitentiaries in order to meet some of the noted criminals of whosecareers I had made a study, and invariably, in expression, in voice andmanner, in gait and bearing, in the hundred and one little indices bywhich the soul betrays itself, I have found them as I had mentallyportrayed them. "

Mr. Britton had risen while speaking and was walking back and forthbefore the fire. 

"I see!" Darrell exclaimed; "and you have formed a mental portrait ofthis man by which you expect to recognize and identify him?"

"I am satisfied that I would have no difficulty in recognizing him, " Mr. Britton replied, with peculiar emphasis on the last words; "the work ofidentification, "--he paused in front of Darrell, looking him earnestlyin the face, --"that, I hope, will one day be yours. "

"Mine!" exclaimed Darrell. "How so? I do not understand. "

"Mr. Underwood has told me that soon after your arrival at The Pines andjust before you became delirious, there was something on your mind inconnection with the robbery and Whitcomb's death which you wished totell him but were unable to recall; and both he and his sister have saidthat often during your delirium you would mutter, 'That face! I cannever forget it; it will haunt me as long as I live!' It has always beenmy belief that amidst the horrors of the scene you witnessed that night, you in some way got sight of the murderer's face, which impressed you sostrongly that it haunted you even in your delirium. It is my hope thatwith the return of memory there will come a vision of that facesufficiently clear that you will be able to identify it should you meetit, as I believe you will. "

Darrell scrutinized his friend closely before replying, noting hisevident agitation. 

"You have already met this man and recognized him!" he exclaimed. 

"Possibly!" was the only reply. 

_Chapter XXII_

THE FETTERS BROKEN

Early on the morning of the third day after Mr. Britton's arrival atcamp he and Darrell set forth for The Pines. But little snow had fallenwithin the last two days, and the trip was made without much difficulty, though progress was slow. Late in the day, as they neared The Pines, theclouds, which for hours had been more or less broken, suddenlydispersed, and the setting sun sank in a flood of gold and crimson lightwhich gave promise of glorious weather for the morrow. 

Arriving at the house, they found it filled with guests invited to thewedding from different parts of the State, the rooms resounding withlight badinage and laughter, the very atmosphere charged with excitementas messengers came and went and servants hurried to and fro, busied withpreparations for the following day. 

Kate herself hastened forward to meet them, a trifle pale, but calm andwearing the faint, inscrutable smile which of late was becoming habitualwith her. At sight of Darrell and his friend, however, her face lightedwith the old-time, sunny smile and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. Shebestowed upon Mr. Britton the same affectionate greeting with which shehad been accustomed to meet him since her childhood's days. He wasvisibly affected, and though he returned her greeting, kissing her onbrow and cheek, he was unable to speak. Her color deepened and her eyesgrew luminous as she turned to welcome Darrell, but she only said, --

"I am inexpressibly glad that you came. It will be good to feel there isone amid all the crowd who knows. "

"He knows also, Kathie, " Darrell replied, in low tones, indicating Mr. Britton with a slight motion of his head. 

"Does he know all?" she asked, quickly. 

"Yes; I thought you could have no objection. "

"No, " she answered, after a brief pause; "I am glad that it is so. "

There was no opportunity for further speech, as Mr. Underwood cameforward to welcome his old friend and Darrell, and they were hurried offto their rooms to prepare for dinner. 

Mr. Underwood was not a man to do things by halves, and the elaboratebut informal dinner to which he and his guests sat down was all thatcould be desired as a gastronomic success. He himself, despite hisbrusque manners, was a genial host, and Walcott speedily ingratiatedhimself into the favor of the guests by his quiet, unobtrusiveattentions, his punctilious courtesy to each and all alike. 

Darrell and his friend felt ill at ease and out of place amid the gayetythat filled the house that evening, and at an early hour they retired totheir rooms. 

"It is awful!" Darrell exclaimed, as they stood for a moment together atthe door of his room listening to the sounds of merriment from below;"it is all so hollow, such a mockery; it seems like dancing over ahidden sepulchre!"

"And we are to stand by to-morrow and witness this farce carried out tothe final culmination!" Mr. Britton commented, in low tones; "it isworse than a farce, --it is a crime! My boy, how will you be able tostand it?" he suddenly inquired. 

Darrell turned away abruptly. "I could not stand it; I would not attemptit, except that my presence will comfort and help her, " he answered. Andso they parted for the night. 

The following morning dawned clear and cloudless, the spotless, unbrokenexpanse of snow gleaming in the sunlight as though strewn with myriadsof jewels; it seemed as if Earth herself had donned her bridal array inhonor of the occasion. 

"An ideal wedding-day!" was the universal exclamation; and such it was. 

The wedding was to take place at noon. A little more than an hour beforethe bridal party was to leave the house Darrell was walking up and downthe double libraries upstairs, whither he had been summoned by a notefrom Kate, begging him to await her there. 

His thoughts went back to that summer night less than six months gone, when he had waited her coming in those very rooms. Not yet six months, and he seemed to have lived years since then! He recalled her as sheappeared before him that night in all the grace and witchery of lovelymaidenhood just opening into womanhood. How beautiful, how joyous shehad been! without a thought of sorrow, and now----

A faint sound like the breath of the wind through the leaves roused him, and Kate stood before him once more. Kate in her bridal robes, theirshimmering folds trailing behind her like the gleaming foam in the wakeof a ship on a moonlit sea, while her veil, like a filmy cloud, enveloped her from head to foot. 

There was a moment of silence in which Darrell studied the face beforehim; the same, yet not the same, as on that summer night. The childlikenaïveté, the charming piquancy, had given place to a sweet seriousness, but it was more tender, more womanly, more beautiful. 

She came a step nearer, and, raising her clasped hands, placed themwithin Darrell's. 

"I felt that I must see you once more, John, " she said, in the low, sweet tones that always thrilled his very soul; "there is something Iwish to say to you, if I can only make my meaning clear, and I feel sureyou will understand me. I want to pledge to you, John, for time and foreternity, my heart's best and purest love. Though forced into this unionwith a man whom I can never love, yet I will be true as a wife; Godknows I would not be otherwise; that is farthest from my thoughts. But Ihave learned much within the past few months, and I have learned thatthere is a love far above all passion and sensuality; a love tender as awife's, pure as a mother's, and lasting as eternity itself. Such love Ipledge you, John Darrell. Do you understand me?"

As she raised her eyes to his it seemed to Darrell that he was lookinginto the face of one of the saints whom the old masters loved to portraycenturies ago, so spiritual was it, so devoid of everything of earth!

"Kathie, darling, " he said, clasping her hands tenderly, "I dounderstand, and, thank God, I believe I am able to reciprocate your lovewith one as chastened and pure. When I left The Pines last fall I did sobecause I could not any longer endure to be near you, loving you as Idid. I felt in some blind, unreasoning way that it was wrong, and yet Iknew that to cease to love you was an impossibility. But in the solitudeof the mountains God showed me a better way. He showed me the truemeaning of those words, 'In the resurrection they neither marry nor aregiven in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven. ' Those wordshad always seemed to me austere and cold, as though they implied thatour poor love would be superseded by higher attributes possessed by theangelic hosts, of which we knew nothing. Now I know that they mean thatour human love shall be refined from all the dross of earthly passion, purified and exalted above mortal conception. I prayed that my love foryou might be in some such measure refined and purified, and I know thatprayer has been answered. I pledge you that love, Kathie; a love thatwill never wrong you even in thought; that you can trust in all the daysto come as ready to defend or protect you if necessary, and as alwaysseeking your best and highest happiness. "

"Thank you, John, " she said, and bowed her head above their claspedhands for a moment. 

When she raised her head her eyes were glistening. "We need not beafraid or ashamed to acknowledge love such as ours, " she said, proudly;"and with the assurance you have given me I shall have strength andcourage, whatever may come. I must go, " she added, lifting her face tohis; "I want your kiss now, John, rather than amid all the meaninglesskisses that will be given me after the ceremony. "

Their lips met in a lingering kiss, then she silently withdrew from theroom. 

As she crossed the hall Walcott suddenly brushed past her breathlessly, without seeing her, and ran swiftly downstairs. His evident excitementcaused her to pause for an instant; as she did, she heard him exclaim, in a low, angry tone and with an oath, --

"You dog! What brings you here? How dare you come here?"

There came a low reply in Spanish, followed by a few quick, sharp wordsfrom Walcott in the same tongue, but which by their inflection Kateunderstood to be an exclamation and a question. 

Her curiosity aroused, she noiselessly descended to the first landing, and, leaning over the balustrade, saw a small man, with dark olive skin, standing close to Walcott, with whom he was talking excitedly. He spokerapidly in Spanish. Kate caught only one word, "Señora, " as he handed anote to Walcott, at the same time pointing backward over his shouldertowards the entrance. Kate saw Walcott grow pale as he read the missive, then, with a muttered curse, he started for the door, followed by theother. 

Quickly descending to the next landing, where there was an alcove windowlooking out upon the driveway, Kate could see a closed carriage standingbefore the entrance, and Walcott, holding the door partially open, talking with some one inside. The colloquy was brief, and, as Walcottstepped back from the carriage, the smaller man, who had been standingat a little distance, sprang in hastily. As he swung the door open foran instant Kate had a glimpse of a woman on the rear seat, dressed inblack and heavily veiled. As the man closed the door Walcott stepped tothe window for a word or two, then turned towards the house, and thecarriage rolled rapidly down the driveway. Kate slowly ascended thestairs, listening for Walcott, who entered the house, but, instead ofcoming upstairs, passed through the lower hall, going directly to aprivate room of Mr. Underwood's in which he received any who happened tocall at the house on business. 

Kate went to her room, her pulse beating quickly. She felt intuitivelythat something was wrong; that here was revealed a phase of Walcott'spersonality which she in her innocence had not considered, had not evensuspected. She knew that her father believed him to be a moral man, andhitherto she had regarded the lack of affinity between herself and himas due to a sort of mental disparity--a lack of affiliation in thoughtand taste. Now the conviction flashed upon her that the disparity was amoral one. She recalled the sense of loathing with which sheinstinctively shrank from his touch; she understood it now. And withintwo hours she was to have married this man! Never!

Passing a large mirror, she paused and looked at the reflection there. Was her soul, its purity and beauty symbolized by her very dress, to beunited to that other soul in its grossness and deformity? Her cheekblanched with horror at the thought. No! that fair body should perishfirst, rather than soul or body ever be contaminated by his touch!

Her decision was taken from that moment, and it was irrevocable. Nothing--not even her father's love or anger, his wishes or hiscommands--could turn her now, for, as he himself boasted, his own bloodflowed within her veins. 

Swiftly she disrobed, tearing the veil in her haste and throwing theshimmering white garments to one side as though she hated the sight ofthem. Taking from her jewel casket the engagement ring which had beenlaid aside for the wedding ceremony, she quickly shut it within its owncase, to be returned as early as possible to the giver; it seemed toburn her fingers like living fire. 

A few moments later her aunt, entering her room, found her dressed inone of her favorite house gowns, --a camel's hair of creamy white. Shelooked at Kate, then at the discarded robes on a couch near by, andstopped speechless for an instant, then stammered, --

"Katherine, child, what does this mean?"

"It means, auntie, " said Kate, putting her arms about her aunt's neck, "that there will be no wedding and no bride to-day. "

Then, looking her straight in the eyes, she added: "Really, auntie, deepdown in your heart, aren't you glad of it?"

Mrs. Dean gasped, then replied, slowly, "Yes; it will make me very gladif you do not have to marry that man; but, Katherine, I don'tunderstand; what will your father say?"

Before Kate could reply there was a heavy knock at the door, which Mrs. Dean answered. She came back looking rather frightened. 

"Your father wishes to see you, Katherine, in your library. Somethingmust have happened; he looks excited and worried. I don't know whathe'll say to you in that dress. "

"I'm not afraid, " Kate replied, brightly. 

A moment later she entered the room where less than half an hour beforeshe had left Darrell. Mr. Underwood was walking up and down. As Kateentered he turned towards her with a look of solicitude, which quicklychanged to one of surprise, tinged with anger. 

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, looking at his watch; "it iswithin an hour of the time set for your wedding; you don't look muchlike a bride. Do you expect to be married in that dress?"

"I am not to be married to-day, papa; nor any other day to Mr. Walcott, "Kate answered, calmly. 

"What!" he exclaimed, scarcely comprehending the full import of herwords; "isn't the matter bad enough as it is without your making itworse by any foolish talk or actions?"

"I don't understand you, papa; to what do you refer?"

"Why, Mr. Walcott has just been called out of town by news that hisfather is lying at the point of death; it is doubtful whether he willlive till his son can reach him. He has to take the first train southwhich leaves within half an hour; otherwise, he would have waited forthe ceremony to be performed. "

"Did he tell you that?" Kate asked, with intense scorn. 

"Certainly, and he left his farewells for you, as he hadn't time even tostop to see you. "

"It is well that he didn't attempt it, " Kate replied, with spirit; "Iwould have told him to his face that he lied. "

"What do you mean by such language?" her father demanded, angrily; "doyou doubt his word to me?"

"I haven't a doubt that he was called away suddenly, but I saw him whenhe received the message, and he didn't appear like a man called bysickness. He was terribly excited, --so excited he did not even see mewhen he passed me; and he was angry, for he cursed both the message andthe man who brought it. "

"Excited? Naturally; he was excited in talking with me, and his anger, no doubt, was over the postponement of the wedding. You show yourselfvery foolish in getting angry in turn. This is a devilishly awkwardaffair, though, thank heaven, there's no disgrace or scandal attached toit, and we must make the best we can of it. I have already sentmessengers to the church to disperse the guests as they arrive, and havealso sent a statement of the facts to the different papers, so therewill be no garbled accounts or misstatements to-morrow morning. "

"Father, " said Kate, drawing herself up with new dignity as he paused, "I want you to understand that this is no childish anger or pique on mypart. I have not told all that I saw, nor is it necessary at present;but I saw enough that my eyes are opened to his real character. I wantyou to understand that I will never marry him! I will die first!"

Her father's face grew dark with anger at her words, but the eyeslooking fearlessly into his own never quailed. Perhaps he recognized hisown spirit, for he checked the wrathful words he was about to speak andmerely inquired, --

"Are you going to make a fool of yourself and involve this affair in ascandal, or will you allow it to pass quietly and with no unpleasantnotoriety?"

"You can dispose of it among outsiders as you please, papa, but I wantyou to understand my decision in this matter, and that it isirrevocable. "

"Until you come to your senses!" he retorted, and left the room. 

With comparatively little excitement the guests dispersed, and no one, not even Darrell or Mr. Britton, knew aught beyond the statement made byMr. Underwood. 

Some particular friends of Kate's, living in a remote part of the State, thinking it might be rather embarrassing for her to remain in Ophir, invited her to their home for two or three months, and she, realizingthat she had incurred her father's displeasure, gladly accepted. 

The next morning found Darrell on his way to the camp, looking longinglyforward to his busy life amid the mountains, and firmly believing thatit would be many a day before he again saw The Pines. 

_Chapter XXIII_

THE MASK LIFTED

Three weeks of clear, cold weather followed, in which the snow becamepacked and frozen until the horses' hoofs on the mountain roadsresounded as though on asphalt, and the steel shoes of the heavily ladensleds rang out a cheerful rhyme on the frosty air. 

These were weeks of strenuous application to work on Darrell's part. Hisevenings were now spent, far into the night, in writing. He still keptthe journal begun during his first winter in camp, believing it wouldone day prove of inestimable value as a connecting link between past andfuture. The geological and mineralogical data which he had collectedthrough more than twelve months' research and experiment was now nearlycomplete, and he had undertaken the work of arranging it, along withcopious notes, in form for publication. It was an arduous butfascinating task and one to which he often wished he might devote hisentire time. 

He was sitting before the fire at night, deeply engrossed in this work, when he was aroused by the sound of hoof-beats on the mountain roadleading from the canyon to the camp. He listened; they came rapidlynearer; it was a horseman riding fast and furiously, and by the heavypounding of the foot-falls Darrell knew the animal he rode was nearlyexhausted. On they came past the miners' quarters towards the officebuilding; it was then some messenger from The Pines, and at thathour--Darrell glanced at the clock, it was nearly midnight--it could beno message of trifling import. 

Darrell sprang to his feet and, rushing through the outer room, followedby Duke barking excitedly, opened the door just as the rider drew reinbefore it. What was his astonishment to see Bennett, one of the houseservants, on a panting, foam-covered horse. 

"Ah, Mr. Darrell, " the man cried, as the door opened, "it's a good thingthat you keep late hours; right glad I was to see the light in yourwindow, I can tell you, sir!"

"But, Bennett, what brings you here at this time of night?" Darrellasked, hastily. 

"Mrs. Dean sent me, sir. Mr. Underwood, he's had a stroke and is ashelpless as a baby, sir, and Mrs. Dean's alone, excepting for usservants. She sent me for you, sir; here's a note from her, and she saidyou was to ride right back with me, if you would, sir. "

"Certainly, I'll go with you, " Darrell answered, taking the note; "butthat horse must not stand in the cold another minute. Ride right overinto the stables yonder; wake up the stable-men and tell them to rub himdown and blanket him at once, and then to saddle Trix and Rob Roy asquickly as they can. And while they're looking after the horses, you goover to the boarding-house and wake up the cook and tell him to get usup a good, substantial hand-out; we'll need it before morning. I'll beready in a few minutes, and I'll meet you over there. "

"All right, sir, " Bennett responded, starting in the direction of thestables, while Darrell went back into his room. Opening the note, heread the following:

 "MY DEAR JOHN: I am in trouble and look to you as to a son. David has had a paralytic stroke; was brought home helpless about five o'clock. I am alone, as you might say, as there is none of the family here. Will you come at once?

 Yours in sorrow, but with love, MARCIA DEAN. "

Darrell's face grew thoughtful as he refolded the missive. He glancedregretfully at his notes and manuscript, then carefully gathered themtogether and locked them in his desk, little thinking that months wouldpass ere he would again resume the work thus interrupted. Then onlystopping long enough to write a few lines of explanation to Hathaway, the superintendent, he seized his fur coat, cap, and gloves, andhastened over to the boarding-house where a lunch was already awaitinghim. Half an hour later he and Bennett were riding rapidly down theroad, Duke bounding on ahead. 

They reached The Pines between four and five o'clock. Darrell, leavingthe horses in Bennett's care, went directly to the house. Before hecould reach the door it was opened by Mrs. Dean. 

"I ought not to have sent for you on such a night as this!" sheexclaimed, as Darrell entered the room, his clothes glistening withfrost, the broad collar turned up about his face a mass of icicles fromhis frozen breath; "but I felt as though I didn't know what to do, and Iwanted some one here who did. I was afraid to take the responsibilityany longer. "

"You did just right, " Darrell answered, dashing away the ice from hisface; "I only wish you had sent for me earlier--as soon as thishappened. How is Mr. Underwood?"

"He is in pretty bad shape, but the doctors think he will pull through. They have been working over him all night, and he is getting so he canmove the right hand a little, but the other side seems badly paralyzed. "

"Is he conscious?"

"Yes, he moves his hand when we speak to him, but he looks so worried. That was one reason why I sent for you; I thought he would feel easierto know you were here. "

As Darrell approached the bedside he was shocked at the changes wroughtin so short a time in the stern, but genial face. It had aged twentyyears, and the features, partially drawn to one side, had, as Mrs. Deanremarked, a strained, worried expression. The eyes of the sick manbrightened for an instant as Darrell bent over him, assuring him that hewould attend to everything, but the anxious look still remained. 

"I don't know anything about David's business affairs, " Mrs. Deanremarked, as she and Darrell left the room, "but I know as well as Iwant to that this was brought on by some business trouble. I amsatisfied something was wrong at the office yesterday, though I wouldn'tsay so to any one but you. "

"Why do you think so?" Darrell queried, in surprise. 

"Because he was all right when he went away yesterday morning, but whenhe came home at noon he was different from what I had ever seen himbefore. He had just that worried look he has now, and he seemedabsent-minded. He was in a great hurry to get back, and the headbook-keeper tells me he called for the books to be brought into hisprivate office, and that he spent most of the afternoon going throughthem. He says that about four o'clock he went through the office, andDavid was sitting before his desk with his head on his hands, and hedidn't speak or look up. A little while afterwards they heard the soundof something heavy falling and ran to his room, and he had fallen on thefloor. "

"It does look, " Darrell admitted, thoughtfully, "as though this may havebeen caused by the discovery of some wrong condition of affairs. "

"Yes, and it must be pretty serious, " Mrs. Dean rejoined, "to bringabout such results as these. "

"Well, " said Darrell, "we may not be able to arrive at the cause of thisfor some time. The first thing to be done is to see that you take a goodrest; don't have any anxiety; I will look after everything. As soon asit is daylight it would be well to telegraph for Mr. Britton if you knowhis address, and possibly for Miss Underwood unless he should seemdecidedly better. "

But Mrs. Dean did not know Mr. Britton's address, no word having beenreceived from him since his departure, and with the return of daylightMr. Underwood had gained so perceptibly it was thought best not to alarmKate unnecessarily. 

For the first few days the improvement in Mr. Underwood's condition wasslow, but gradually became quite pronounced. Nothing had been heard fromWalcott since his sudden leave-taking, but about a week after Mr. Underwood's seizure word was received from him that he was on his wayhome. As an excuse for his prolonged absence and silence he stated thathis father had died and that he had been delayed in the adjustment ofbusiness matters. 

It was noticeable that after receiving word from Walcott the look ofanxiety in Mr. Underwood's face deepened, but his improvement was moremarked than ever. It seemed as though the powerful brain andindomitable will dominated the body, forcing it to resume its formeractivity. By this time he was able to move about his room on crutches, and on the day of Walcott's return he insisted upon being placed in hiscarriage and taken to the office. At his request Darrell accompanied himand remained with him. 

Walcott, upon his arrival in the city, had heard of the illness of hissenior partner, and was therefore greatly surprised on entering theoffices to find him there. He quickly recovered himself and greeted Mr. Underwood with expressions of profound sympathy. To his words ofcondolence, however, Mr. Underwood deigned no reply, but his keen eyesbent a searching look upon the face of the younger man, under which thelatter quailed visibly; then, without any preliminaries or any inquiriesregarding his absence, Mr. Underwood at once proceeded to businessaffairs. 

His stay at the office was brief, as he soon found himself growingfatigued. As he was leaving Walcott inquired politely for Mrs. Dean, then with great particularity for Miss Underwood. 

"She is out of town at present, " Mr. Underwood replied, watchingWalcott. 

"Out of town? Indeed! Since when, may I inquire?"

"You evidently have not been in correspondence with her, " Mr. Underwoodcommented, ignoring the other's question. 

"Well, no, " the latter stammered, slightly taken aback by his partner'smanner; "I had absolutely no opportunity for writing, or I would havewritten you earlier, and then, really, you know, it was hardly to beexpected that I would write Miss Underwood, considering her attitudetowards myself. I am hoping that she will regard me with more favorafter this little absence. "

"You will probably be able to judge of that on her return, " the elderman answered, dryly. 

Kate, on being informed by letter of her father's condition, had wishedto return home at once. She had been deterred from doing so by briefmessages from him to the effect that she remain with her friends, butshe was unable to determine whether those messages were prompted bykindness or anger. On the evening following Walcott's return, however, Mr. Underwood dictated to Darrell a letter to Kate, addressing her byher pet name, assuring her of his constant improvement, and that sheneed on no account shorten her visit but enjoy herself as long aspossible, and enclosing a generous check as a present. 

To Darrell and to Mrs. Dean, who was sitting near by with her knitting, this letter seemed rather significant, and their eyes met in a glance ofmutual inquiry. After Mr. Underwood had retired Darrell surprised thatworthy lady by an account of her brother's reception of Walcott thatday, while she in turn treated Darrell to a greater surprise by tellinghim of Kate's renunciation of Walcott at the last moment, before sheknew anything of the postponement of the wedding. 

As they separated for the night Darrell remarked, "I may be wrong, butit looks to me as though the cause of Mr. Underwood's illness was thediscovery of some evidence of bad faith on Walcott's part. "

"It looks that way, " Mrs. Dean assented; "I've always felt that manwould bring us trouble, and I hope David does find him out before it'stoo late. "

_Chapter XXIV_

FORESHADOWINGS

During Mr. Underwood's illness and convalescence it was pathetic towatch his dependence upon Darrell. He seemed to regard him almost as ason, and when, as his health improved, Darrell spoke of returning to thecamp, he would not hear of it. 

Every day after Walcott's return Mr. Underwood was taken to the office, where he gradually resumed charge, directing the business of the firmthough able to do little himself. As he was still unable to write, hewished Darrell to act as his secretary, and the latter, glad of anopportunity to reciprocate Mr. Underwood's many kindnesses to himself, readily acceded to his wishes. When engaged in this work he used theroom which had formerly been his own office and which of late had beenunoccupied. 

Returning to his office after the transaction of some outside business, to await, as usual, the carriage to convey Mr. Underwood and himself toThe Pines, he heard Walcott's voice in the adjoining room. A peculiarquality in his tones, as though he were pleading for favor, arrestedDarrell's attention, and he could not then avoid hearing what followed. 

"But surely, " he was saying, "an amount so trifling, and taking all thecircumstances into consideration, that I regarded myself already one ofyour family and looked upon you as my father, you certainly cannot takeso harsh a view of it!"

"That makes no difference whatever, " Mr. Underwood interposed sternly;"misappropriation of funds is misappropriation of funds, no matter whatthe amount or the circumstances under which it is taken, and as for yourlooking upon me as a father, I wouldn't allow my own son, if I had one, to appropriate one dollar of my money without my knowledge and consent. If you needed money you had only to say so, and I would have loaned youany amount necessary. "

"But I regarded this in the nature of a loan, " Walcott protested, "onlyI was so limited for time I did not think it necessary to speak of ituntil my return. "

"You were not so limited but that you had time to tamper with the booksand make false entries in them, " Mr. Underwood retorted. 

"That was done simply to blind the employees, so they need not catch onthat I was borrowing. "

"There is no use in further talk, " the other interrupted, impatiently;"what you have done is done, and your talk will not smooth it over. Besides, I have already told you that I care far less for the moneywithdrawn from my personal account than for the way you are conductingbusiness generally. There is not a client of mine who can say that Ihave ever wronged him or taken an unfair advantage of him, and I'll nothave any underhanded work started here now. Everything has got to beopen and above-board. "

"As I have said, Mr. Underwood, in the hurry and excitement of the lastweek or so before my going away I was forced to neglect some businessmatters; but if I will straighten everything into satisfactory shape andrepay that small loan, as I still regard it, I hope then that our formerpleasant relations will be resumed, and that no little misapprehensionof this sort will make any difference between us. "

"Walcott, " said Mr. Underwood, rising on his crutches and preparing toleave the room, "I had absolute confidence in you; I trusted youimplicitly. Your own conduct has shaken that confidence, and it may besome time before it is wholly restored. We will continue business asbefore; but remember, you are on probation, sir--on probation!"

When Kate Underwood received her father's letter, instead of prolongingher visit she at once prepared to return home. She understood that thebarrier between her father and herself had been swept away, and nothingcould then hold her back from him. 

Two days later, as Mr. Underwood was seated by the fire on his returnfrom the office, there came a ring at the door which he took to be thepostman's. Mrs. Dean answered the door. 

"Any letter from Kate?" he asked, as his sister returned. 

"Yes, there's a pretty good-sized one, " she replied, with a broad smile, adding, as he glanced in surprise at her empty hands, "I didn't bringit; 'twas too heavy!"

The next instant two arms were thrown about his neck, a slender figurewas kneeling beside him, and a fair young face was pressed close to his, while words of endearment were murmured in his ear. 

Without a word he clasped her to his breast, holding her for a fewmoments as though he feared to let her go. Then, relaxing his hold, heplayfully pinched her cheeks and stroked the brown hair, calling her bythe familiar name "Puss, " while his face lighted with the old genialsmile for the first time since his illness. Each scanned the other'sface, striving to gauge the other's feelings, but each read only thatthe old relations were re-established between them, and each wassatisfied. 

Within a day or so of her return Kate despatched a messenger to Walcottwith the ring, accompanied by a brief note to the effect that everythingbetween them was at an end, but that it was useless for him to seek anexplanation, as she would give none whatever. 

He at once took the note to his senior partner. 

"I understood, Mr. Underwood, that everything was amicably adjustedbetween us; I did not suppose that you had carried your suspicionsagainst me to any such length as this!"

Mr. Underwood read the note. "I know nothing whatever regarding mydaughter's reasons for her decision, and have had nothing whatever to dowith it. I knew that she had formed that decision at the last momentbefore the wedding ceremony was to be performed, before she was evenaware of its postponement. She seemed to think she had sufficientreasons, but what those reasons were I have never asked and do notknow. "

"But do you intend to allow her to play fast and loose with me in thisway? Is she not to fulfil her engagement?" Walcott inquired, withdifficulty concealing his anger. 

Mr. Underwood regarded him steadily for a moment. "Mr. Walcott, takingall things into consideration, I think perhaps we had better let thingsremain as they are, say, for a year or so. My daughter is young; thereis no need of haste in the consummation of this marriage. I have foundwhat she is worth to me, and I am in no haste to spare her from my home. If she is worth having as a wife, she is worth winning, and I shall notforce her against her wishes a second time. "

Mr. Underwood spoke quietly, but Walcott understood that furtherdiscussion was useless. 

Meeting Kate a few days later in her father's office, he greeted herwith marked politeness. After a few inquiries regarding her visit, hesaid, --

"May I be allowed to inquire who is responsible for your sudden decisionagainst me?"

"You, and you alone, are responsible, " she replied. 

"But I do not understand you, " he said. 

"Explanations are unnecessary, " she rejoined, coldly. 

Walcott grew angry. "I know very well that certain of your friends areno friends of mine. If I thought that either or both of them had had ahand in this I would make it a bitter piece of work for them!"

"Mr. Walcott, " said Kate, with dignity, "you only demean yourself bysuch threats. No one has influenced me in this matter but you yourself. You unwittingly afforded me, at the last moment, an insight into yourreal character. That is enough!"

Walcott felt that he had gone too far. "Perhaps I spoke hastily, butsurely it was pardonable considering my grievance. I hope you willoverlook it and allow me to see you at The Pines, will you not, MissUnderwood?"

"If my father sees fit to invite you to his house I will probably meetyou as his guest, but not otherwise. "

Although Mr. Underwood had resumed charge of the downtown offices asbefore his illness, it soon became evident to all that his activebusiness life was practically over, and that some of his variedinterests, involving as they did a multiplicity of cares andresponsibilities, must be curtailed. It was therefore decided to sellthe mines at Camp Bird at as early a date as practicable, and Mr. Britton, Mr. Underwood's partner in the mining business, was summonedfrom a distant State to conduct negotiations for the sale. He arrivedearly in April, and from that time on he and Darrell were engaged inappraising and advertising the property embraced in the great mining andmilling plant, in arranging the terms of sale, and in accompanyingvarious prospective purchasers or their agents to and from the mines. 

Darrell's work as Mr. Underwood's secretary had been taken up by Kate, who now seldom left her father's side. Between herself and Darrell therewas a comradeship similar to that which existed between them previous toher engagement with Walcott, only more healthful and normal, beingunmixed with any regret for the past or dread of the future. 

"You will remain at The Pines when the mines are sold, will you not?"she inquired one day on his return from a trip to the camp. 

"Not unless I am needed, " he replied; "your father will need me butlittle longer; then, unless you need me, I had better not remain. "

She was silent for a moment. "No, " she said, slowly, "I do not need you;I have the assurance of your love; that is enough. I know you will beloyal to me as I to you, wherever you may be. "

"I will feel far less regret in going away now that I know you are freefrom that man Walcott, " Darrell continued; "but I wish you would pleaseanswer me one question, Kathie: have you any fear of him?"

"Not for myself, " she answered; "but I believe he is a man to be feared, and, " she added, significantly, "I do sometimes fear him for my friends;perhaps for that reason it is, as you say, better that you should notremain. "

"Have no fear for me, Kathie. I understand. That man has been my enemyfrom our first meeting; but have no fear; I am not afraid. "

By the latter part of May negotiations for the sale of the mines hadbeen consummated, and Camp Bird passed into the possession of strangers. It was with a feeling of exile and homelessness that Darrell, riding forthe last time down the canyon road, turned to bid the mountainsfarewell, looking back with lingering glances into the frowning faces hehad learned to love. 

"What do you propose doing now?" Mr. Britton asked of him as they werewalking together the evening after his return from camp. 

"That is just what I have been asking myself, " Darrell replied. 

"Without arriving at any satisfactory conclusion?"

"Not as yet. "

"What would you wish to do, were you given your choice?"

"What I wish to do, and what I intend to do if possible, is to devotethe next few months to the completion of my book. I can now afford todevote my entire time to it, but I could not do the work justice unlessamid the right surroundings, and the question is, where to find them. Ido not care to remain here, and yet I shrink from going amongstrangers. "

"There is no need of that, " Mr. Britton interposed, quickly; after apause he continued: "You once expressed a desire for a sort of hermitlife. I think by this time you have grown sufficiently out of yourselfthat you could safely live alone with yourself for a while. How wouldthat suit you for three or four months?"

"I should like it above all things, " Darrell answered enthusiastically;"it would be just the thing for my work, but where or how could I livein such a manner?"

"I believe I agreed at that time to furnish the hermitage whenever youwere ready for it. "

"Yes, you said something of the kind, but I never understood what youmeant by it. "

"Settle up your business here, pack together what things you need for afew months' sojourn in the mountains, be ready to start with me nextweek, and you will soon understand. "

"What is this hermitage, as you call it, and where is it?" Darrellasked, curiously. 

The other only shook his head with a smile. 

"All right, " said Darrell, laughing; "I only hope it is as secluded andbeautiful as Camp Bird; I am homesick to-night for my old quarters. "

"You can spend your entire time, if you so desire, without a glimpse ofa human being other than the man who will look after your needs, exceptas I may occasionally inflict myself upon you for a day or so. "

"Good!" Darrell ejaculated. 

"It is amid some of the grandest scenery ever created, " Mr. Brittoncontinued, adding, slowly, "and to me it is the most sacred spot onearth, --a veritable Holy of Holies; some day you will know why. "

"I thank you, and I beg pardon for my levity, " said Darrell, touched bythe other's manner. And the two men clasped hands and parted for thenight. 

A few days later, as Darrell bade his friends at The Pines good-by, Katewhispered, --

"You think this is a parting for three or four months; I feel that it ismore. Something tells me that before we meet again there will be achange--I cannot tell what--that will involve a long separation; but Iknow that through it all our hearts will be true to each other and thatout of it will come joy to each of us. "

"God grant it, Kathie!" Darrell murmured. 

_Chapter XXV_

THE "HERMITAGE"

Deep within the heart of the Rockies a June day was drawing to itsclose. Behind a range of snow-crowned peaks the sun was sinking into asea of fire which glowed and shimmered along the western horizon and inwhose transfiguring radiance the bold outlines of the mountains, extending far as the eye could reach in endless ranks, were marvellouslysoftened; the nearer cliffs and crags were wrapped in a golden glory, while the hoary peaks against the eastern sky wore tints of rose andamethyst, and over the whole brooded the silence of the ages. 

Less than a score of miles distant a busy city throbbed with ceaselesslife and activity, but these royal monarchs, towering one above another, their hands joined in mystic fellowship, their heads white with eternalsnows, dwelt in the same unbroken calm in which, with noiseless step, the centuries had come and gone, leaving their footprints in the graniterocks. 

Amid those vast distances only two signs of human handiwork werevisible. Close clinging to the sides of a rugged mountain a narrow trackof shining steel wound its way upward, marking the pathway ofcivilization in its march from sea to sea, while near the summit of aneighboring peak a quaint cabin of unhewn logs arranged in Gothicfashion was built into the granite ledge. 

On a small plateau before this unique dwelling stood John Britton andJohn Darrell, the latter absorbed in the wondrous scene, the otherwatching with intense satisfaction the surprise and rapture of his youngcompanion. They stood thus till the sun dipped out of sight. Theradiance faded, rose and amethyst deepened to purple; the mountains grewsombre and dun, their rugged outlines standing in bold relief againstthe evening sky. A nighthawk, circling above their heads, broke thesilence with his shrill, plaintive cry, and with a sigh of deep contentDarrell turned to his friend. 

"What do you think of it?" the latter asked. 

"It is unspeakably grand, " was the reply, in awed tones. 

Beckoning Darrell to follow, Mr. Britton led the way to the cabin, whichhe unlocked and entered. 

"Welcome to the 'Hermitage!'" he said, smilingly, as Darrell paused onthe threshold with an exclamation of delight. 

A huge fireplace, blasted from solid rock, extended nearly across oneside of the room. Over it hung antlers of moose, elk, and deer, whileskins of mountain lion, bear, and wolf covered the floor. A largewriting-table stood in the centre of the room, and beside it a bookcasefilled with the works of some of the world's greatest authors. 

Darrell lifted one book after another with the reverential touch of thetrue book-lover, while Mr. Britton hastily arranged the belongings ofthe room so as to render it as cosey and attractive as possible. 

"The evenings are so cool at this altitude that a fire will soon seemgrateful, " he remarked, lighting the fragrant boughs of spruce andhemlock which filled the fireplace and drawing chairs before thecrackling, dancing flames. 

Duke, who had accompanied them, stretched himself in the firelight witha low growl of satisfaction, at which both men smiled. 

It was the first time Darrell had ever seen his friend in the rôle ofhost, but Mr. Britton proved himself a royal entertainer. Hisexperiences of mountain life had been varied and thrilling, and thecabin contained many relics and trophies of his prowess as huntsman andtrapper. As the evening wore on Mr. Britton opened a small store-roombuilt in the rock, and took therefrom a tempting repast of venison andwild fowl which his forethought had ordered placed there for theoccasion. To Darrell, sitting by the fragrant fire and listening totales of adventure, the time passed only too swiftly, and he was sorrywhen the entrance of the man with his luggage recalled them to thelateness of the hour. 

"There is a genuine hermit for you, " Mr. Britton remarked, as the mantook his departure after agreeing to come to the cabin once a day to dowhatever might be needed. 

"Who is he?" Darrell asked. 

"No one knows. He goes by the name of 'Peter, ' but nothing is known ofhis real name or history. He has lived in these mountains for thirtyyears and has not visited a city or town of any size in that time. He isa trapper, but acts as guide during the summers. He is very popular withtourist and hunting parties that come to the mountains, but nothing willinduce him to leave his haunts except as he occasionally goes to somesmall station for supplies. "

"Where does he live?"

"In a cabin about half-way down the trail. He is a good cook, a faithfulman every way, but you will find him very reticent. He is one of themany in this country whose past is buried out of sight. "

Mr. Britton then led the way to two smaller rooms, --a kitchen, equipped with a small stove, table, and cooking utensils, and asleeping-apartment, its two bunks piled with soft blankets andwolf-skins. 

As Darrell proceeded to disrobe his attention was suddenly attracted byan object in one corner of the room which he was unable to distinguishclearly in the dim light. Upon going over to examine it more closely, what was his astonishment to see a large crucifix of exquisite designand workmanship. As he turned towards Mr. Britton the latter smiled tosee the bewilderment depicted on his face. 

"You did not expect to find such a souvenir of old Rome in a mountaincabin, did you?" he asked. 

"Perhaps not, " Darrell admitted; "but that of itself is not what sogreatly surprises me. Are you a----" He paused abruptly, withoutfinishing the question. 

"I will answer the question you hesitate to ask, " the other replied;"no, I am not a Catholic; neither am I, in the strict sense of the word, a Protestant, or one who protests, since, if I were, I would protest nomore earnestly against the errors of the Catholic Church than againstthe evils existing in other so-called Christian churches. "

Darrell's eyes returned to the crucifix. 

"That, " continued Mr. Britton, "was given me years ago by a belovedfriend of mine--a priest, now an archbishop--in return for a fewservices rendered some of his people. I keep it for the lessons ittaught me in the years of my sorrow, and whenever my burden seemsgreater than I can bear, I come back here and look at that, and besidethe suffering which it symbolizes my own is dwarfed to insignificance. "

A long silence followed; then, as they lay down in the darkness, Darrellsaid, in subdued tones, --

"I have never heard you say, and it never before occurred to me to ask, what was your religion. "

"I don't know that I have any particular religion, " Mr. Brittonanswered, slowly; "I have no formulated creed. I am a child of God and adisciple of Jesus, the Christ. Like Him, I am the child of a King, a sonof the highest Royalty, yet a servant to my fellow-men; that is all. "

The following morning Mr. Britton awakened Darrell at an early hour. 

"Forgive me for disturbing your slumbers, but I want you to see thesunrise from these heights; I think you will feel repaid. You could notsee it at the camp, you were so hemmed in by higher mountains. "

Darrell rose and, having dressed hastily, stepped out into the graytwilight of the early dawn. A faint flush tinged the eastern sky, whichdeepened to a roseate hue, growing moment by moment brighter and morevivid. Chain after chain of mountains, slumbering dark and grim againstthe horizon, suddenly awoke, blushing and smiling in the rosy light. Then, as rays of living flame shot upward, mingling with the crimsonwaves and changing them to molten gold, the snowy caps of the higherpeaks were transformed to jewelled crowns. There was a moment oftranscendent beauty, then, in a burst of glory, the sun appeared. 

"That is a sight I shall never forget, and one I shall try to seeoften, " Darrell said, as they retraced their steps to the cabin. 

"You will never find it twice the same, " Mr. Britton answered; "Naturevaries her gifts so that to her true lovers they will not pall. "

After breakfast they again strolled out into the sunlight, Mr. Brittonseating himself upon a projecting ledge of granite, while Darrell threwhimself down upon the mountain grass, his head resting within hisclasped hands. 

"What an ideal spot for my work!" he exclaimed. 

Mr. Britton smiled. "I fear you would never accomplish much with mehere. I must return to the city soon, or you will degenerate into aconfirmed idler. "

"I have often thought, " said Darrell, reflectively, "that when I havecompleted this work I would like to attempt a novel. It seems as thoughthere is plenty of material out here for a strong one. Think of thelives one comes in contact with almost daily--stranger than fiction, every one!"

"Your own, for instance, " Mr. Britton suggested. 

"Yours also, " Darrell replied, in low tones; "the story of your life, ifrightly told, would do more to uplift men's souls than nine-tenths ofthe sermons. "

"The story of my life, my son, will never be told to any ear other thanyour own, and I trust to your love for me that it will go no farther. "

"Of that you can rest assured, " Darrell replied. 

As the sun climbed towards the zenith they returned to the cabin andseated themselves on a broad settee of rustic work under an overhangingvine near the cabin door. 

"I have been wondering ever since I came here, " said Darrell, "how youever discovered such a place as this. It is so unique and so appropriateto the surroundings. "

"I discovered, " said Mr. Britton, with slight emphasis on the word, "only the 'surroundings. ' The cabin is my own work. "

"What! do you mean to say that you built it?"

"Yes, little by little. At first it was hardly more than a rude shelter, but I gradually enlarged it and beautified it, trying always, as yousay, to keep it in harmony with its surroundings. "

"Then you are an artist and a genius. "

"But that is not the only work I did during the first months of my lifehere. Come with me and I will show you. "

He led the way along the trail, farther up the mountain, till a sharpturn hid him from view. Darrell, following closely, came upon theentrance of an incline shaft leading into the mountain. Just within hesaw Mr. Britton lighting two candles which he had taken from a rockyledge; one of these he handed to Darrell, and then proceeded down theshaft. 

"A mine!" Darrell exclaimed. 

"Yes, and a valuable one, were it only accessible so that it could bedeveloped without enormous expense; but that is out of the question. "

The underground workings were not extensive, but the vein was one ofexceptional richness. When they emerged later Darrell brought with himsome specimens and a tiny nugget of gold as souvenirs. 

"The first season, " said Mr. Britton, "I worked the mine and built thecabin as a shelter for the coming winter. The winter months I spent inhunting and trapping when I could go out in the mountains, andhibernated during the long storms. Early in the spring I began miningagain and worked the following season. By that time I was ready to startforth into the world, so I gave Peter an interest in the mine, and heworks it from time to time, doing little more than the representationeach year. "

As they descended towards the cabin Mr. Britton continued: "I have shownyou this that you may the better understand the story I have to tell youbefore I leave you as sole occupant of the Hermitage. "

_Chapter XXVI_

JOHN BRITTON'S STORY

Evening found Darrell and his friend seated on the rocks watching thesunset. Mr. Britton was unusually silent, and Darrell, through a sort ofintuitive sympathy, refrained from breaking the silence. At last, as theglow was fading from earth and sky, Mr. Britton said, --

"I have chosen this day and this hour to tell you my story, because, being the anniversary of my wedding, it seemed peculiarly appropriate. Twenty-eight years ago, at sunset, on such a royal day as this, we weremarried--my love and I. "

He spoke with an unnatural calmness, as though it were another's storyhe was telling. 

"I was young, with a decided aptitude for commercial life, ambitious, determined to make my way in life, but with little capital besides soundhealth and a good education. She was the daughter of a wealthy man. Wespeak in this country of 'mining kings;' he might be denominated an'agricultural king. ' He prided himself upon his hundreds of fertileacres, his miles of forest, his immense dairy, his blooded horses, hismagnificent barns and granaries, his beautiful home. She was the youngerdaughter--his especial pet and pride. For a while, as a friend andacquaintance of his two daughters, I was welcome at his home; later, asa lover of the younger, I was banished and its doors closed against me. Our love was no foolish boy and girl romance, and we had no word ofkindly counsel; only unreasoning, stubborn opposition. What followedwas only what might have been expected. Strong in our love for and trustin each other, we went to a neighboring village, and, going to a littlecountry parsonage, were married, without one thought of the madness, thefolly of what we were doing. We found the minister and his family seatedoutside the house under a sort of arbor of flowering shrubs, and Iremember it was her wish that the ceremony be performed there. Never canI forget her as she stood there, her hand trembling in mine at thestrangeness of the situation, her cheeks flushed with excitement, herlips quivering as she made the responses, the slanting sunbeams kissingher hair and brow and the fragrant, snowy petals of the mock-orangefalling about her. 

"A few weeks of unalloyed happiness followed; then gradually my eyeswere opened to the wrong I had done her. My heart smote me as I saw her, day by day, performing household tasks to which she was unaccustomed, subjected to petty trials and privations, denying herself in many littleways in order to help me. She never murmured, but her very fortitude andcheerfulness were a constant reproach to me. 

"But a few months elapsed when we found that another was coming to shareour home and our love. We rejoiced together, but my heart reproached memore bitterly than ever as I realized how ill prepared she was for whatawaited her. Our trials and privations brought us only closer to eachother, but my brain was racked with anxiety and my heart bled as day byday I saw the dawning motherhood in her eyes, --the growing tenderness, the look of sweet, wondering expectancy. I grew desperate. 

"From a booming western city came reports of marvellous openings forbusiness men--of small investments bringing swift and large returns. Iplaced my wife in the care of a good, motherly woman and bade hergood-by, while she, brave heart, without a tear, bade me God-speed. Iwent there determined to win, to make a home to which I would bring bothwife and child later. For three months I made money, sending half toher, and investing every cent which I did not absolutely need of theother half. Then came tales from a mining district still farther west, of fabulous fortunes made in a month, a week, sometimes a day. What wasthe use of dallying where I was? I hastened to the mining camp. In lessthan a week I had 'struck it rich, ' and knew that in all probability Iwould within a month draw out a fortune. 

"Just at this time the letters from home ceased. For seven days I heardnothing, and half mad with anxiety and suspense I awaited each night theincoming train to bring me tidings. One night, just as the train wasabout to leave, I caught sight of a former acquaintance from aneighboring village, bound for a camp yet farther west, and, as Igreeted him, he told me in few words and pitying tones of the death ofmy wife and child. "

For a moment Mr. Britton paused, and Darrell drew instinctively nearer, though saying nothing. 

"I have no distinct recollection of what followed. I was told afterwardsthat friendly hands caught me as the train started, to save me frombeing crushed beneath the wheels. For three months I wandered from onemining camp to another, working mechanically, with no thought or care asto success or failure. An old miner from the first camp who had taken aliking to me followed me in my wanderings and worked beside me, caringfor me and guarding my savings as though he had been a father. The oldfellow never left me, nor I him, until his death three years later. Hetaught me many valuable points in practical mining, and I think hisrough but kindly care was all that saved me from insanity during thoseyears. 

"After his death I brooded over my grief till I became nearly frenzied. I could not banish the thought that but for my rashness and foolishnessin taking her from her home my wife might still have been living. Tomyself I seemed little short of a murderer. I left the camp andwandered, night and day, afar into the mountains. I came to thismountain on which we are sitting and climbed nearly to the top. God wasthere, but, like Jacob of old, 'I knew it not. ' But something seemed tospeak to me out of the infinite silence, calming my frenzied brain andsoothing my troubled soul. I sat there till the stars appeared, and thenI sank into a deep, peaceful sleep--the first in years. When I awoke thesun was shining in my face, and, though the old pain still throbbed, Ihad a sense of new strength with which to bear it. I ate of the food Icarried with me and drank from a mountain stream--the same that tricklespast us now, only nearer its source. The place fascinated me; I darednot leave it, and I spent the day in wandering up and down the rocks. Mysteps were guided to the mine I showed you to-day. I saw the indicationsof richness there, and, overturning the earth with my pick, found goldamong the very grassroots. Then followed the life of which I havealready given you an outline. 

"For a while I worked in pain and anguish, but gradually, in thesolitude of the mountains, my spirit found peace; against their infinitymy life with its burden dwindled to an atom, and from the lesson oftheir centuries of silent waiting I gathered strength and fortitude toawait my appointed time. 

"But after a time God spoke to me and bade me go forth from my solitudeinto the world, to comfort other sorrowing souls as I had beencomforted. From that time I have travelled almost constantly. I have nohome; I wish none. I want to bring comfort and help to as many ofearth's sorrowing, sinning children as possible; but when the old woundbleeds afresh and the pain becomes more than I can bear I flee as a birdto my mountain for balm and healing. Do you wonder, my son, that theplace is sacred to me? Do you understand my love for you in bringing youhere?"

Darrell sat with bowed head, speechless, but one hand went out to Mr. Britton, which the latter clasped in both his own. 

When at last he raised his head he exclaimed, "Strange! but your storyhas wrung my soul! It seems in some inexplicable way a part of my verylife!"

"Our souls seem united by some mystic tie--I cannot explain what, unlessit be that in some respects our sufferings have been similar. "

"Mine have been as nothing to yours, " Darrell replied. A moment later headded:

"I feel as one in a dream; what you have told me has taken such holdupon me. "

Night had fallen when they returned to the cabin. 

"This seems hallowed ground to me now, " Darrell remarked. 

"It has always seemed so to me, " Mr. Britton replied; "but remember, solong as you have need of the place it is always open to you. "

"'Until the day break and the shadows flee away, '" Darrell responded, inlow tones, as though to himself. 

Mr. Britton caught his meaning. "My son, " he said, "when the day breaksfor you do not forget those who still sit in darkness!"

_Chapter XXVII_

THE RENDING OF THE VEIL

The story of Mr. Britton's life impressed Darrell deeply. In the daysfollowing his friend's departure he would sit for hours revolving it inhis mind, unable to rid himself of the impression that it was in someway connected with his own life. Impelled by some motive he couldscarcely explain, he recorded it in his journal as told by Mr. Brittonas nearly as he could recall it. 

Left to himself he worked with unabated ardor, but his work soon grewunsatisfying. The inspiring nature of his surroundings seemed tostimulate him to higher effort and loftier work, which should call intoplay the imaginative faculties and in which the brain would be free toweave its own creations. Stronger within him grew the desire to write anovel which should have in it something of the power, the force, of thestrenuous western life, --something which would seem, in a measure atleast, worthy of his surroundings. His day's work ended, he would walkup and down the rocks, sometimes far into the night, the plot for thisstory forming within his brain, till at last its outlines grew distinctand he knew the thing that was to be, as the sculptor knows what willcome forth at his bidding from the lifeless marble. He made a carefulsynopsis of the plot that nothing might escape him in the uncertainfuture, and then began to write. 

The order of his work was now reversed, the new undertaking being givenhis first and best thought; then, when imagination wearied and refusedto rise above the realms of fact, he fell back upon his scientific workas a rest from the other. Thus employed the weeks passed with incredibleswiftness, the monotony broken by an occasional visit from Mr. Britton, until August came, its hot breath turning the grasses sere and brown. 

One evening Darrell came forth from his work at a later hour than usual. His mind had been unusually active, his imagination vivid, but, weariedat last, he was compelled to stop short of the task he had set forhimself. 

The heat had been intense that day, and the atmosphere seemed peculiarlyoppressive. The sun was sinking amid light clouds of gorgeous tints, andas Darrell watched their changing outlines they seemed fit emblems ofthe thoughts at that moment baffling his weary brain, --elusive, intangible, presenting themselves in numberless forms, yet always beyondhis grasp. 

Standing erect, with arms folded, his pose indicated conscious strength, and the face lifted to the evening sky was one which would havecommanded attention amid a sea of human faces. Two years had wroughtwondrous changes in it. Strength and firmness were there still, butsweetness was mingled with the strength, and the old, indomitable willwas tempered with gentleness. All the finer susceptibilities had beenawakened and had left their impress there. Introspection had done itswork. It was the face of a man who knew himself and had conqueredhimself. The sculptor's work was almost complete. 

Not a breath stirred the air, which moment by moment grew moreoppressive, presaging a coming storm. Darrell was suddenly filled with astrange unrest--a presentiment of some impending catastrophe. For awhile he walked restlessly up and down the narrow plateau; then, seatinghimself in front of the cabin, he bowed his head upon his hands, shutting out all sight and thought of the present, for his mind seemedteeming with vague, shadowy forms of the past. Duke came near and laidhis head against his master's shoulder, and the twilight deepened aroundthem both. 

Far up the neighboring mountain a mighty engine loomed out from thegathering darkness--a fiery-headed monster--and with its long train ofcoaches crawled serpent-like around the rocky height, then vanished asit came. The clouds which had been roving indolently across the westernhorizon suddenly formed in line and moved steadily--a solidbattalion--upward towards the zenith, while from the east anotherphalanx, black and threatening, advanced with low, wrathful mutterings. 

Unmindful of the approaching storm Darrell sat, silent and motionless, till a sudden peal of thunder--the first note of the impendingbattle--roused him from his revery. Springing to his feet he watched therapidly advancing armies marshalling their forces upon thebattle-ground. Another roll of thunder, and the conflict began. Up anddown the mountain passes the winds rushed wildly, shrieking like demons. Around the lofty summits the lightnings played like the burnished swordsof giants in mortal combat, while peal after peal resounded through thevast spaces, reverberated from peak to peak, echoed and re-echoed, tillthe rocks themselves seemed to tremble. 

With quickening pulse and bated breath Darrell watched thestorm, --fascinated, entranced, --while emotions he could neitherunderstand nor control surged through his breast. More and more fiercelythe battle waged; more swift and brilliant grew the sword-play, whilethe roar of heaven's artillery grew louder and louder. His spirit rosewith the strife, filling him with a strange sense of exaltation. 

Suddenly the universe seemed wrapped in flame, there was a deafeningcrash as though the eternal hills were being rent asunder, andthen--oblivion!

When that instant of blinding light and deafening sound had passed JohnDarrell lay prostrate, unconscious on the rocks. 

_Chapter XXVIII_

"AS A DREAM WHEN ONE AWAKETH"

As the morning sun arose over the snowy summits of the Great Divide, thesleeper on the rocks stirred restlessly; then gradually awoke toconsciousness--a delightful consciousness of renewed life and vigor, asubtle sense of revivification of body and mind. The racking pain, theburning fever, the legions of torturing phantoms, all were gone; hispulse was calm, his blood cool, his brain clear. 

With a sigh of deep content he opened his eyes; then suddenly rose to asitting posture and gazed about him in utter bewilderment; above himonly the boundless dome of heaven, around him only endless mountainranges! Dazed by the strangeness, the isolation of the scene, he beganfor an instant to doubt his sanity; was this a reality or a chimera ofhis own imagination? But only for an instant, for with his firstmovement a large collie had bounded to his side and now began lickinghis hands and face with the most joyful demonstrations. There wassomething soothing and reassuring in the companionship even of the dumbbrute, and he caressed the noble creature, confident that he would soonfind some sign of human life in that strange region; but the dog, reading no look of recognition in the face beside him, drew back andbegan whining piteously. 

Perplexed, but with his faculties thoroughly aroused and active, theyoung man sprang to his feet, and, looking eagerly about him, discovered at a little distance the cabin against the mountain ledge. Hastening thither he found the door open, and, after vainly waiting forany response to his knocking, entered. 

The furnishings were mostly hand-made, but fashioned with considerableartistic skill, and contributed to give the interior a most attractiveappearance, while etchings, books and papers, pages of writtenmanuscript, and a violin indicated its occupants to be a man of refinedtastes and studious habits. The dog had accompanied him, sometimesfollowing closely, sometimes going on in advance as though to lead theway. Once within the cabin he led him to the store-room in the rockwhere was an abundance of food, which the latter proceeded to dividebetween himself and his dumb guide. 

Having satisfied his hunger, the young man took a newspaper from thetable, and, going outside the cabin, seated himself to await the returnof his unknown host. Sitting there, he discovered for the first time therailway winding around the sides of the lofty mountain opposite. Thesight filled him with delight, for those slender rails, gleaming in themorning sunlight, seemed to connect him with the world which heremembered, but from which he appeared so strangely isolated. 

Unfolding the newspaper his attention was attracted by the date, atwhich he gazed in consternation, his eyes riveted to the page. For amoment his head swam, he was unable to believe his own senses. Droppingthe sheet and bowing his head upon his hands he went carefully over thepast as he now remembered it, --the business on which he had beencommissioned to come west; his journey westward; the tragedy in thesleeping-car--he shuddered as the memory of the murderer's face flashedbefore him with terrible distinctness; his reception at The Pines, --allwas as clear as though it had happened but yesterday; it was in August, and this was August, but two years later! Great God! had two yearsdropped out of his life? Again he recalled his illness, the long agony, the final sinking into oblivion, the strange awakening in perfecthealth; yes, surely there must be a missing link; but how? where?

He rose to re-enter the cabin, and, passing the window, caught a glimpseof his face reflected there; a face like, and yet unlike, his own, andcrowned with snow-white hair! In doubt and bewilderment he paced up anddown within the cabin, vainly striving to connect these fragmentaryparts, to reconcile the present with the past. As he passed and repassedthe table covered with manuscript his attention was attracted by anodd-looking volume bound in flexible morocco and containing severalhundred pages of written matter. It lay partly open in a conspicuousplace, and upon the fly-leaf was written, in large, bold characters, --

 "To my Other Self, should he awaken. "

He could not banish the words from his mind; they drew him withirresistible magnetism. Again and again he read them, until, impelled bysome power he could not explain, he seized the volume and, seatinghimself in the doorway of the cabin, proceeded to examine it. Liftingthe fly-leaf, he read the following inscription:

 "To one from the outer world, whose identity is hidden among the secrets of the past:

 "With the hope that when the veil is lifted, these pages may assist him in uniting into one perfect whole the strangely disjointed portions of his life, they are inscribed by

 "JOHN DARRELL. "

He smiled as he read the name and recalled the circumstances under whichhe had taken it, but he no longer felt any hesitation regarding thevolume in his hands, and he began to read. It was written as acommunication from one stranger to another, from the mountain recluse toone of whose life he had not the slightest knowledge; but he knewwithout doubt that it was addressed to himself, yet written byhimself, --that writer and reader were one and the same. 

For more than two hours he read on and on, deeply absorbed in the taleof that solitary life, his own heart responding to each note of joy orsorrow, of hope or despair, and vibrating to the undertone of lonelinessand longing running through it all. 

He strove vainly to recall the characters in the strange drama in whichhe had played his part but of which he had now no distinct recollection;dimly they passed before his vision like the shadowy phantoms of a dreamfrom which one has just awakened. He started at the first mention ofJohn Britton's name, eagerly following each outline of that noblecharacter, his heart kindling with affection as he read his words ofloving, helpful counsel. His face grew tender and his eyes filled at thelove-story, so pathetically brief, faithfully transcribed on thosepages, but of Kate Underwood he could only recall a slender girl withgolden-brown hair and wistful, appealing brown eyes; he wondered at thestrength of character shown by her speech and conduct, and his heartwent out to this unknown love, notwithstanding that memory now showedhim the picture of another and earlier love in the far East. 

But it was the story of John Britton's life which moved him most. Withstrained, eager eyes and bated breath he read that sad recital, and atits termination, buried his face in his hands and sobbed like a child. 

When he had grown calm he sat for some time reviewing the past andforming plans for future action. While thus absorbed in thought he hearda step, and, looking up, saw standing before him a man of apparentlysixty years, with bronzed face and grizzled hair, whose small, piercingeyes regarded himself with keen scrutiny. In response to the youngerman's greeting he only bowed silently. 

"You must be Peter, the hermit, " the young man exclaimed; "but whoeveryou are, you are welcome; I am glad to see a human face. "

"And you, " replied the other, slowly, "you are not the same man that youwere yesterday; you have awakened, as he said you would some day. "

"As who said?" the young man questioned. 

"John Britton, " the other replied. 

"Yes, I have awakened, and my life here is like a dream. Sit down, Peter; I want to ask you some questions. "

For half an hour they sat together, the younger man asking questions, the other answering in as few words as possible, his keen eyes neverleaving the face of his interlocutor. 

"Where is this John Britton?" the young man finally inquired. 

"In Ophir--at a place called The Pines. "

"I know the place; I remember it. How far is it from here?"

"Fifteen miles by rail from the station at the foot of the mountain. "

"I must go to him at once; you will show me the way. How soon can we getaway from here?"

Peter glanced at the sun. "We cannot get down the trail in season forto-day's train. We will start to-morrow morning. "

Without further speech he then went into the cabin and busied himselfwith his accustomed duties. When he reappeared he again stood silentlyregarding the younger man with his fixed, penetrating gaze. 

"What awakened you?" he asked, at length. 

The abruptness of the question, as well as its tenor, startled theother; that was a phase of the mystery surrounding himself of which hehad not even thought. 

"I do not know, " he replied, slowly; "that question had not occurred tome before. What do you think? Might it not have come about in theordinary sequence of events?"

Peter shook his head. "Not likely, " he muttered; "there must have been ashock of some kind. "

The young man smiled brightly. "Well, I cannot answer for yesterday'sevents, " he said, "having neither record nor recollection of the day;but I certainly sustained a shock this morning on awaking on the barerocks at such an altitude as this and with no trace of a human beingvisible!"

"On the rocks!" Peter repeated; "where?"

"Yonder, " said the young man, indicating the direction; "come, I willshow you the exact spot. "

He led the way to his rocky bed, near one end of the plateau, thenwatched his companion's movements as he knelt down and carefullyinspected the rock, then, rising to his feet, looked searchingly inevery direction with his ferret-like glance. 

"Ah!" the latter suddenly exclaimed, with emphasis, at the same timepointing to a rock almost overhanging their heads. 

Following the direction indicated, the young man saw a pine-tree on theedge of the overhanging rock, the entire length of its trunk split open, its branches shrivelled and blackened as though by fire. 

Peter, notwithstanding his age, sprang up the rocks with the agility ofa panther, the younger man following more slowly. As he came up Peterturned from an examination of the dead tree and looked at himsignificantly. 

"An electric shock!" he said; "that was a living tree yesterday. Therewas an electric storm last night, the worst in years; it brought deathto the tree, but life to you. "

To the younger man the words of the old hermit seemed incredible, butthat night brought him a strange confirmation of their truth. Upondisrobing for the night, what was his astonishment to discover upon hisright shoulder and extending downward diagonally across the right breasta long, blue mark of irregular, zigzag form, while running parallel withit its entire length, perfect as though done in India ink with anartist's pen, was the outline of the very scene surrounding him where helay that morning--cliff and crag and mountain peak--traced indeliblyupon the living flesh, an indubitable evidence of the power which hadfinally aroused his dormant faculties and a souvenir of the lost yearswhich he would carry with him to his dying day. 

_Chapter XXIX_

JOHN DARRELL'S STORY

On the following morning the cabin on the mountain side was closed at anearly hour, and its late occupant, accompanied by Peter and the collie, descended the trail to the small station near the base of the mountain, where he took leave of the old hermit. On his arrival at Ophir heordered a carriage and drove directly to The Pines, for he was impatientto see John Britton at as early a date as possible, and was fearful lestthe latter, with his migratory habits, might escape him. 

It was near noon when, having dismissed the carriage, he rang foradmission. He recalled the house and grounds as they appeared to him onhis first arrival, but he found it hard to realize that he was lookingupon the scenes among which most of that strange drama of the last twoyears had been enacted. Mr. Underwood himself came to the door. 

"Why, Darrell, my boy, how do you do?" he exclaimed, shaking handsheartily; "thought you'd take us by surprise, eh? Got a little tired ofliving alone, I guess, and thought you'd come back to your friends. Well, it's mighty good to see you; come in; we'll have lunch in about anhour. "

To Mr. Underwood's surprise the young man did not immediately accept theinvitation to come in, but seemed to hesitate for a moment. 

"I am very glad to meet you, Mr. Underwood, " he responded, pleasantly, but with a shade of reserve in his manner; "I remember you very well, indeed, and probably yours is about the only face I will be able torecall. "

For a moment Mr. Underwood seemed staggered, unable to comprehend themeaning of the other's words. 

The young man continued: "I understand Mr. Britton is stopping with you;is he still here, or has he left?"

"He is here, " Mr. Underwood replied; "but, good God! Darrell, what doesthis mean?"

Before the other could reply Mr. Britton, who was in an adjoining roomand had overheard the colloquy, came quickly forward. He gave a swift, penetrating glance into the young man's face, then, turning to Mr. Underwood, said, --

"It means, David, that our young friend has come to his own again. He isno longer of our world or of us. "

Then turning to the young man, he said, "I am John Britton; do you wishto see me?"

The other looked earnestly into the face of the speaker, and his ownfeatures betrayed emotion as he replied, --

"I do; I must see you on especially important business. "

"David, you will let us have the use of your private room for a while?"Mr. Britton inquired. 

Mr. Underwood nodded silently, his eyes fixed with a troubled expressionupon the young man's face. The latter, observing his distress, said, --

"Don't think, Mr. Underwood, that I am insensible to all your kindnessto me since my coming here two years ago. I shall see you later and showyou that I am not lacking in appreciation, though I can never expressmy gratitude to you; but before I can do that--before I can even tellyou who I am--it is necessary that I see Mr. Britton. "

"Tut! tut!" said Mr. Underwood, gruffly; "don't talk to me of gratitude;I don't want any; but, my God! boy, I had come to look on you almost asmy own son!" And, turning abruptly, he left the room before either ofthe others could speak. 

"He is a man of very strong feelings, " said Mr. Britton, leading the wayto Mr. Underwood's room; "and, to tell the truth, this is a pretty hardblow to each of us, although we should have prepared ourselves for it. Be seated, my son. "

Seating himself beside the young man and again looking into his face, hesaid, --

"I see that the day has dawned; when did the light come, and how?"

Briefly the other related his awakening on the rocks and the eventswhich followed down to his finding and reading the journal whichrecorded so faithfully the history of the missing years, Mr. Brittonlistening with intense interest. At last the young man said, --

"Of all the records of that journal, there was nothing that interestedme so greatly or moved me so deeply as did the story of your own life. That is what brought me here to-day. I have come to tell you mystory, --the story of John Darrell, as you have known him, --and possiblyyou may find it in some ways a counterpart to your own. "

"I was drawn towards you in some inexplicable way from our firstmeeting, " Mr. Britton replied, slowly; "you became as dear to me as ason, so that I gave you in confidence the story that no other humanbeing has ever heard. It is needless to say that I appreciate this markof your confidence in return, and that you can rest assured of mydeepest interest in anything concerning yourself. "

The younger man drew his chair nearer his companion. "As you alreadyknow, " he said, "I am a mine expert. I came out here on a commission fora large eastern syndicate, and as there was likely to be livelycompetition and I wished to remain incognito, I took the name of JohnDarrell, which in reality was a part of my own name. My home is in NewYork State. I was a country-bred boy, brought up on one of those greatfarms which abound a little north of the central part of the State; but, though country-bred, I was not a rustic, for my mother, who was myprincipal instructor until I was about fourteen years of age, was awoman of refinement and culture. My mother and I lived at her father'shouse--a beautiful country home; but even while a mere child I becameaware that there was some kind of an unpleasant secret in our family. Mygrandfather would never allow my father's name mentioned, and he hadlittle love for me as his child; but my earliest recollections of mymother are of her kneeling with me night after night in prayer, teachingme to love and revere the father I had never known, who, she told me, was 'gone away, ' and to pray always for his welfare and for his return. At fourteen I was sent away to a preparatory school, and afterwards tocollege. Then, as I developed a taste for mineralogy and metallurgy, Itook a course in the Columbian School of Mines. By this time I hadlearned that while it was generally supposed my mother was a widow, there were those, my grandfather among them, who believed that my fatherhad deserted her. My first intimation of this was an insinuation to thateffect by my grandfather himself, soon after my graduation. I was anathlete and already had a good position at a fair salary, and so greatwas my love and reverence for my father's name that I told the oldgentleman that nothing but his white hairs saved him from a soundthrashing, and that at the first repetition of any such insinuation Iwould take my mother from under his roof and provide a home for hermyself. That sufficed to silence him effectually, for he idolized her. After this little episode I went to my mother and begged her to tell methe secret regarding my father. "

The young man paused for a moment, his dark eyes gazing earnestly intothe clear gray eyes watching him intently; then, without shifting hisgaze, he continued, in low tones:

"She told me that about a year before my birth she and my father weremarried against her father's will, his only objection to the marriagebeing that my father was poor. She told me of their happy married lifethat followed, but that my father was ambitious, and the consciousnessof poverty and the fact that he could not provide for her as he wishedgalled him. She told me how, when there was revealed to them the promiseof a new love and life within their little home, he redoubled hisefforts to do for her and hers, and then, dissatisfied with what hecould accomplish there, went out into the new West to build a home forhis little family. She told of the brave, loving letters that came sofaithfully and the generous remittances to provide for every possibleneed in the coming emergency. Then Fortune beckoned him still fartherwest, and he obeyed, daring the dangers of that strange, wild countryfor the love he bore his wife and his unborn child. From that countryonly one letter ever was received from him. Just at that time I wasborn, and my life came near costing hers who bore me. For weeks she laybetween life and death, so low that the report of her death reached herparents, bringing them broken-hearted and, as they supposed, too late toher humble home. They found her yet living and threw their love andtheir wealth into the battle against death. In all this time no newscame from the great West. As soon as she could be moved my mother andher child were taken to her father's home. Her father forgave her, buthe had no forgiveness for her husband and no love for his child. Hetried to make my mother believe her husband had deserted her, but shewas loyal in her trust in him as in her love for him. She named herchild for his father, 'John, ' but as her father would not allow the namerepeated in his hearing she gave him the additional name of 'Darrell, 'by which he was universally known; but in those sacred hours when shetold me of my father and taught me to pray for him, she always called meby his name, 'John Britton. '"

As he ceased speaking both men rose simultaneously to their feet. Theelder man placed his hands upon the shoulders of the younger, and, standing thus face to face, they looked into each other's eyes as thougheach were reading the other's inmost soul. 

"What was your mother's name?" Mr. Britton asked, in low tones. 

"Patience--Patience Jewett, " replied the other. 

Mr. Britton bowed his head with deep emotion, and father and son wereclasped in each other's arms. 

When they had grown calm enough for speech Mr. Britton's first wordswere of his wife. 

"What of your mother, my son, --was she living when you came west?"

"Yes, but her health was delicate, and I am fearful of the effects of mylong absence; it must have been a terrible strain upon her. As soon as Ireached the city this morning I telegraphed an old schoolmate fortidings of her, and I am expecting an answer any moment. "

They talked of the strange chain of circumstances which had brought themtogether and of the mysterious bond by which they had been so closelyunited while as yet unconscious of their relationship. The summons tolunch recalled them to the present. As they rose to leave the room Mr. Britton threw his arm affectionately about Darrell's shoulders, exclaiming, --

"My son! Mine! and I have loved you as such from the first time I lookedinto your eyes! If God will now only permit me to see my beloved wifeagain, I can ask nothing more!"

And as Darrell gazed at the noble form, towering slightly above his own, and looked into the depths of those gray eyes, penetrating, fearless, yet tender as a woman's, he felt that however sweet and sacred had beenthe friendship between them in the past, it was as naught compared withthe infinitely sweeter and holier relationship of father and son. 

They passed into the dining-room where Mr. Underwood and Mrs. Deanawaited them, a look of eager expectancy on both faces, the wistfulexpression of Mrs. Dean as she watched for the first token ofrecognition on Darrell's part being almost pathetic. 

Mr. Britton, who had entered slightly in advance, paused half-way acrossthe room, and, placing his hand on Darrell's shoulder, said, in a voicewhich vibrated with emotion, --

"My dear friends, Mrs. Dean and Mr. Underwood, allow me to introduce myson, John Darrell Britton!"

There, was a moment of strained silence in which only the laboredbreathing of Mr. Underwood could be heard. 

"Do you mean that you have adopted him?" Mr. Underwood asked, slowly, seeming to speak with difficulty. 

"No, David; he is my own flesh and blood--my legitimate son; I willexplain later. "

Mrs. Dean and Darrell had clasped hands and were scanning each other'sfaces. 

"John, do you remember me?" she asked, with trembling lips. 

Darrell bent his head and kissed her. "I do, Mrs. Dean, " he replied. 

She smiled, at the same time wiping away a tear with the corner of herwhite apron. 

"I don't think I could have borne it if you hadn't, " she remarked, simply; then, shaking hands with Mr. Britton, she added:

"I congratulate you, Mr. Britton; I congratulate you both. If ever therewere two who ought to be father and son, you are the two. "

Mr. Underwood wrung Darrell's hand. "I congratulate you, boy, and I'mmighty glad to find you're not a stranger to us, after all. "

Then, grasping his old-time partner's hand, he added: "Jack, you oldfraud! You've always got the best of me on every bargain, but I forgiveyou this time. I wanted the boy myself, but you seem to have the besttitle, so there's no use to try to jump your claim. "

Lunch was just over as a messenger was announced, and a moment later atelegram was handed to Darrell. As he opened the missive his fingerstrembled and Mr. Britton's face grew pale. Darrell hastily read thecontents, then met his father's anxious glance with a reassuring smile. 

"She is living and in usual health, though my friend says she is muchmore delicate than when I left. "

"We must go to her at once, my boy, " said Mr. Britton; "how soon can youleave?"

"In a very few hours, father; when do you wish to start?"

Mr. Britton consulted a time-table. "The east-bound express leaves atten-thirty to-night; can we make that?"

"Sure!" Darrell responded, with an enthusiasm new to his westernfriends; "you can't start too soon for me, and there isn't a train thattravels fast enough to take me to that little mother of mine, especiallywith the good news I have for her. "

Half an hour later, as he was hastily gathering together hispossessions, he came suddenly upon a picture, at sight of which hepaused, then stood spellbound, all else for the time forgotten. It was aportrait of Kate Underwood, taken in the gown she had worn on that nightof her first reception. It served as a connecting link between the pastand present. Gazing at it he was able to understand how the young girlwhom he faintly remembered had grown into the strong, sweet characterdelineated in the recorded story of his love. He was able to recall someof the scenes portrayed there; he recalled her as she stood that day onthe "Divide, " her head uncovered, her gleaming hair like a halo abouther face, her eyes shining with a light that was not of earth. 

He kissed the picture reverently. "Sweet angel of my dream!" hemurmured; "come what may, you hold, and always will, a place in my heartwhich no other can ever take from you. I will lay your sweet face away, never again to be lifted from its hiding-place until I can look upon itas the face of my betrothed. "

His trunk was packed, his preparations for departure nearly complete, when there came a gentle tap at his door, and Mrs. Dean entered. 

"I was afraid, " she said, speaking with some hesitation, "that you mightthink it strange if you did not see Katherine, and I wanted to explainthat she is away. She went out of town, to be gone for a few days. Shewill be very sorry when she returns to find that she has missed seeingyou. "

"Thank you, Mrs. Dean, " said Darrell, slowly; "on some accounts I wouldhave been very glad to meet Kate; but on the whole I think perhaps it isbetter as it is. "

"I don't suppose you remember her except as you saw her when you firstcame, " Mrs. Dean added, wistfully; "I should like to have you see her asshe is now. I think she has matured into a beautiful young woman. "

"Yes, I remember her, Mrs. Dean; she is beautiful. "

"Oh, do you? She will be glad to hear that!" Mrs. Dean exclaimed, with ahappy smile. 

Darrell came nearer and took her hands within his own. "Will you giveher a message from me, just as I give it to you? She will understand. "

"Oh, yes; gladly. "

"Tell her, " said Darrell, and his voice trembled slightly, "I rememberher. Tell her I will see her 'at the time appointed;' and that I neverforget!"

_Chapter XXX_

AFTER MANY YEARS

The evening train, as it was known, --a local from the south, --wasapproaching the little village of Ellisburg, winding its way over milesof rolling country dotted with farm-houses of snowy white; to the east, rough, rugged hills surmounted by a wall of forest, while far to thewest could be seen the sandy beaches and blue waters of Lake Ontario. 

The arrival of this train formed one of the chief events in the dailylife of the little town, and each summer evening found a group of fromtwenty to fifty of the village folk awaiting its incoming. To them itafforded a welcome break in the monotony of their lives, a fleetingglimpse of people and things from that vague world outside the horizonbounding their own. 

Amid the usual handful of passengers left at the station on thisparticular evening were two who immediately drew the attention of thecrowd. Two men, one something over fifty years of age, tall, with erectform and dark hair well silvered, and with a grave, sweet face; theother not more than seven-and-twenty, but with hair as white as snow, while his face wore an inscrutable look, as though the dark, piercingeyes held within their depths secrets which the sphinx-like lips wouldnot reveal. Closely following them was a splendid collie, trying invarious ways to give expression to his delight at being released fromthe confinement of the baggage-car. 

There was a sudden, swift movement in the crowd as a young man steppedquickly forward and grasped the younger of the two by the hand. 

"Darrell, old boy! is this you?" he exclaimed; "Great Scott! what haveyou been doing to yourself these two years?"

"Plenty of time for explanations later, " said Darrell, shaking handsheartily; "Ned, I want you to know my father; father, this is my oldchum, now Dr. Elliott. "

The young physician's face betrayed astonishment, but he shook handswith Mr. Britton with no remarks beyond the customary greeting. 

"Now, Ned, " continued Darrell, "get us out of this mob as quickly as youcan; I don't want to be recognized here. "

"Not much danger with that white pate of yours; but come this way, mycarriage is waiting. I did not let out that you were coming back, for Ithought you wouldn't want any demonstration from the crowd here, so Itold no one but father; he's waiting for you in the carriage. "

"You're as level-headed as ever, " Darrell remarked. 

They reached the carriage, greetings were exchanged with Mr. Elliott, and soon the party was driving rapidly towards the village. 

"We will go at once to my office, " Dr. Elliott remarked to Darrell, whowas seated beside himself; "we can make arrangements there as to thebest method of breaking this news to your mother. "

"You have told her nothing, then?" Darrell inquired. 

"No; life has so many uncertainties and she has already suffered somuch. You had a long journey before you; if anything had happened todetain you, it was better not to have her in suspense. "

"You were right, " Darrell replied; "you know I left all that to your ownjudgment. "

"Darrell, old boy, " said the doctor, inspecting his companioncritically, "do satisfy my curiosity: is that white hair genuine or awig donned for the occasion?"

"What reason could I have for any such masquerading?" Darrell demanded;"when you come to know my experience for the past two years you will notwonder that my hair is white. "

"I beg your pardon, old fellow; I meant no offence. We had all given youup for dead--all but your mother; and your telegram nearly knocked meoff my feet. "

Here the doctor drew rein, and, fastening the horses outside, theyentered his office, a small, one-story building standing close to thestreet in one corner of the great dooryard of his father's home, andsheltered alike from sun and storm by giant maples. 

After brief consultation it was decided that as Dr. Elliott and hisfather were frequent callers at the Jewett home, the entire party woulddrive out there, and, in the probable event of not seeing Mrs. Britton, who was an invalid and retired at an early hour, Darrell and his fatherwould spend the night at the old homestead, but their presence would notbe known by the wife and mother until the following morning. 

"You see, sir, " Dr. Elliott remarked to Mr. Britton, "your coming hascomplicated matters a little. I would not apprehend any danger from themeeting between Mrs. Britton and her son, for she has looked for hisreturn every day; but I cannot say what might be the result of the shockher nervous system would sustain in meeting you. We are safe, however, in going out there this evening, for she always retires to her roombefore this time. "

Both Mr. Britton and Darrell grew silent as the old Jewett homesteadcame in view. It was a wide-spreading house of colonial build, snowywhite with green shutters and overrun with climbing roses andhoneysuckle vines. It stood back at a little distance from the street, and a broad walk, under interlacing boughs of oak, elm, and maple, ledfrom the street to the lofty pillared veranda across its front. The fullmoon was rising opposite, its mellow light throwing every twig andflower into bold relief. Two figures could be seen seated within theveranda, and as the carriage stopped Dr. Elliott remarked, --

"I was right; Mr. Jewett and his elder daughter are sitting outside, butMrs. Britton has retired. "

As the four men alighted and proceeded up the walk towards the housestrangely varied emotions surged through the breasts of Darrell and hisfather. To one this was his childhood's home, the only home of which hehad any distinct memory; to the other it was the home to which long agohe had been welcomed as a friend, but from which he had been banished asa lover. But all reminiscent thoughts were suddenly put to flight. 

They had advanced only about half-way up the walk when one of the long, old-fashioned windows upon the veranda was hastily thrown open and aslender figure robed in a white dressing-gown came with swift buttremulous steps down the walk to meet them, crying, in glad accents, --

"Oh, my son! my son! you have come, as I knew you would some day!"

Darrell sprang forward and caught his mother in his arms, and then, unable to speak, held her close to his breast, his tears falling on herupturned face, while she caressed him and crooned fond words ofendearment as in the days when she had held him in her arms. Dr. Elliott and his father stood near, nonplussed, uncertain what to do orwhat course to take. The old gentleman on the veranda left his seat andtook a few steps towards the group, as though to assist his daughter tothe house, but Dr. Elliott motioned him to remain where he was. Mr. Britton, scarcely able to restrain his feelings, yet fearful ofagitating his wife, had withdrawn slightly to one side, butunconsciously was standing so that the moonlight fell full across hisface. 

At that instant Mrs. Britton raised her head, and, seeing the familiarfaces of Dr. Elliott and his father, looked at the solitary figure asthough to see who it might be. Their eyes met, his shining with theold-time love with which he had looked on her as she stood a bride onthat summer evening crowned with the sunset rays, only a thousand-foldmore tender. She gave a startled glance, then raised her arms to himwith one shrill, sweet cry, --the cry of the lone night-bird for itsmate, --

"John!"

"Patience!" came the responsive note, deep, resonant, tender. 

He held her folded within his arms until he suddenly felt the fragileform grow limp in his clasp, then, lifting her, he bore her tenderly upthe walk, past the bewildered father and sister, into the house, Dr. Elliott leading the way, and laid her on a couch in her own room. 

She was soon restored to consciousness, and, though able to say little, lay feasting her eyes alternately upon the face of husband and son, herglance, however, returning oftener and dwelling longer on the face ofthe lover, who, after more than twenty-seven years of absence, was alover still. 

_Chapter XXXI_

AN EASTERN HOME

Within a few days Darrell and his father were domiciled in the Jewetthomestead, the physicians pronouncing it unwise to attempt to removeMrs. Britton to another home. 

To Experience Jewett, who reigned supreme in her father's house, itseemed as though two vandals had invaded her domain, so ruthlessly didthey open up the rooms for years jealously guarded from sunshine anddust, while her cherished household gods were removed by sacrilegioushands from their time-honored niches and consigned to the ignominy ofobscure back chambers or the oblivion of the garret. 

Under Mr. Britton's supervision, soon after his arrival, the greatdouble parlors, which had not been used since the funeral of Mrs. Jewettsome seven years before, were thrown wide open, Sally, the "help, "standing with open mouth and arms akimbo, aghast at such proceedings, while Miss Jewett executed a lively quick-step in pursuit of a moth, which, startled by the unusual light, was circling above her head. 

Not only were the gayly flowered Brussels carpet and the black hairclothfurniture the same as when he had been a guest in those rooms nearlythirty years before, but each piece of furniture occupied the sameposition as then. He smiled as he noted the arm-chair by one of thefront windows, to which he had been invariably assigned and in which hehad slipped and slid throughout each evening to the detriment of thecrocheted "tidy" pinned upon its back. The vases and candlesticks uponthe mantel were arranged with the same mathematical precision. He coulddetect only one change, which was that to the collection of familyphotographs framed and hanging above the mantel, there had been added aportrait of the late Mrs. Jewett. 

Within a week the old furnishings had been relegated to other parts ofthe house and modern upholstery had taken their places, the soft subduedtints of which blended harmoniously, forming a general impression ofwarmth and light. 

Most of these innovations Miss Jewett viewed with disfavor, particularlythe staining of the floors preparatory to laying down two Turkish rugsof exquisite coloring and design. 

"I don't see any use in being so skimping with the carpets, " sheremarked to Sally; "if I'd been in his place I'd have got enough tocover the whole floor while I was about it, even if I'd bought somethinga little cheaper. A carpet with bare floor showing all 'round it puts mein mind of Dick's hat-band that went part way 'round and stopped. "

"That's jest what it does!" Sally assented. 

"I wanted to lay down some strips of carpeting along the edges, but hewouldn't hear to it, " Miss Jewett continued, regretfully. 

"I s'pose, " Sally remarked, sagely, "it's all on account of livin' outwest along with them wild Injuns and cow-boys so many years. Westernfolks 'most always has queer ideas about things. "

"I never would have believed it to see such overturnings in my house!"exclaimed Miss Jewett, with a sigh; "and if 'twas anybody but JohnBritton I wouldn't stand it. I wonder if he won't be telling me how tomake butter and raise chickens and turkeys next!"

"Mebbe he'll bring 'round one o' them new-fangled contrivances forhatchin' chickens without hens, " Sally ventured, with a laugh; adding, reflectively, "I wonder why, when they was about it, they didn't inventa machine to lay aigs as well as hatch 'em; that would 'ave been asavin', for a hen's keep don't amount to much when she's settin', butthey're powerful big eaters generally. "

Miss Jewett prided herself upon her thrift and economy; her well-kepthouse where nothing was allowed to go to waste; her spotless dairy-roomsand rolls of golden butter which never failed to bring a cent and a halfmore a pound than any other; her fine breeds of poultry which annuallycarried off the blue ribbons at the county fair. She had achieved alocal reputation of which she was quite proud; she would brook nointerference in her management of household affairs, and, as she said, no one but John Britton would ever have been allowed to infringe uponher established rules and regulations. There had been a time when shehad shared equally with her sister John Britton's attentions. It hadbeen the only bit of romance in her life, but a lingering sweetness fromit still remained in her heart through all the commonplace years thathad followed, like the faint perfume from rose-leaves, faded andshrivelled, but cherished as sacred mementos. She had not blamed him forchoosing her younger and more attractive sister, and she had secretlyadmired her sister for braving their father's displeasure to marry him. And now she was glad that he had returned; glad for his own sake thatthe imputations cast upon him by her father and others were refuted; forher sister's sake, that her last days should be so brightened andglorified; but deep within her heart, glad for her own sake, because itwas good to look upon his face and hear his voice again. 

Sally's strident tones broke in upon her retrospection:

"There's one thing, Miss Jewett, I guess you needn't be afeard they'llmeddle with, and that's your cookin'. Mr. Darrell, he was tellin' meabout the prices people had to pay for meals on themeatin'-cars, --'diners' he called 'em, --and I told him there wasn't novittles on earth worth any such price as that, and I up and asked himwhether they was as good as the vittles he gets here, and he laughed andsaid there wasn't nobody could beat his Aunt Espey at cookin'. "

Miss Jewett's eyes brightened. "Bless the boy's heart!" she exclaimed;"I'm glad they're going to be here for Thanksgiving; I'll see that theyget such a dinner as they neither of them ever dreamed of!"

Darrell had won a warm place in her heart in his baby days with hisearliest efforts to speak her name. "Espey" had been the result of hisfirst attack on the formidable name of "Experience, " and "Aunt Espey"she had been to him ever since. 

Her father, Hosea Jewett, was a hale, hearty man of upward of seventy, hard and unyielding as the granite ledges cropping out along thehill-sides of his farm, and with a face gnarled and weather-beaten asthe oaks before his door. He was scrupulously honest, but exacting, relentless, unforgiving. 

He was not easily reconciled to the new order of things, but for hisdaughter's sake he held his peace. Then, too, though he never forgaveJohn Britton for having married his daughter, yet John Britton as a manwhose wealth exceeded even his own was an altogether different personfrom the ambitious but impecunious lover of thirty years before. He hadnever forgiven Darrell for being John Britton's son, but mingled withhis long-cherished animosity was a secret pride in the splendid physicaland intellectual manhood of this sole representative of his own line. 

Between the sisters there had been few points of resemblance. PatienceJewett had been of an ardent, emotional nature, passionately fond ofmusic, a great reader, and with little taste for the household tasks inwhich her more practical sister delighted. Having a more delicateconstitution, she had little share in the busy routine of farm life, butwas allowed to follow her own inclinations. She was still absorbed inher music and studies when Love found her, and the woman within herawoke at his call. 

After Darrell's birth her health was seriously impaired. It seemed asthough her faith in her husband, her belief that he would one dayreturn, and her love for her son were the only ties holding soul andbody together, and, with her natural religious tendencies, the spiritualnature developed at the expense of the physical. Since Darrell's strangedisappearance she had failed rapidly. 

With the return of her husband and son she seemed temporarily to renewher hold on life, appearing stronger than for many months. For the firstfew days much of her time was spent at her piano, singing with herhusband the old songs of their early love, but oftenest a favorite ofhis which she had sung during the years of his absence, and whichDarrell had sung on that night at The Pines following his discovery ofthe violin, --"Loyal to Love and Thee. "

Her delight in the rooms newly fitted up for her was unbounded, andagainst the background of their subdued, warm tints she made astrikingly beautiful picture, with her sweet, spirituelle face crownedwith waving silver hair. 

Either Darrell or his father, or both, were constantly with her, forthey realized that the time was short in which to make amends for themissing years. She loved to listen to her husband's tales of the greatWest or to bits which Darrell read from his journal of that strangechapter of his own life. 

"You have not yet asked after your sweetheart, Darrell, " his mother saidone evening soon after his arrival, as they sat awaiting his father'sreturn from a short stroll. 

"You are my sweetheart now, little mother, " he replied, kissing the handthat lay within his own. 

"Does that mean that you care less for Marion than before you wentaway?" she queried. 

"No, " Darrell answered, slowly; "I cannot say that my regard for her hasdecreased. I may have changed in some respects, but not in my feelingstowards Marion. I will ask you a question, mother: Do you think shestill cares for me as before I left home?"

"I hardly know how to answer you, because, as you know, Marion is sosilent and secretive. I never could understand the girl. To be candid, Darrell dear, I never could understand why you should care for her, andI never thought she cared for you as she ought. "

"You know, mother, how I came to be attracted to her in the first place;we were schoolmates, and you know she was an exceptionally brilliantgirl, and different from most of the others. We were interested in thesame subjects, and naturally there sprang up quite an intimacy betweenus. Then we corresponded while I was at college, and her letters were sobright and entertaining that my admiration for her increased. I thoughther the most brilliant and the best girl, every way, in all myacquaintance, and I think so still. "

"But, my dear boy, " his mother exclaimed, "admiration is not love; Idon't believe you ever really loved her, and she always seemed to me tobe all brains and no heart--one of those cold, silent natures incapableof loving. "

"I think you are wrong there, mother. Marion is silent, but I don'tbelieve she is cold or incapable of loving. She may, or may not, beincapable of expressing it, but I believe she could love very deeply andsincerely were her love once awakened. "

"You know she has taken up the study of medicine?"

"Ned Elliott told me she had been studying with Dr. Parker for about ayear. "

"Dr. Parker tells me she is making remarkable progress. "

"I don't doubt it, mother; she will probably make a success of it; sheis just the woman to do so. "

"There never was any mention of love between you two, was there, or anyengagement?" Darrell's mother asked, with some hesitation, after a briefsilence. 

"None whatever, " he replied, then added, with a smile: "We consideredourselves in love at the time, --at least, I did; but as I look back nowit seems a very Platonic affair; but I thought I loved her, and I thinkshe loved me. "

"You say, Darrell, that your regard for her is unchanged?"

"Yes; the same as ever. "

"But you do not think now that you love her or loved her then?"

"No, mother; I know I do not, and did not. "

"Then, Darrell, my boy, some one else has taught you what love reallyis?"

For answer Darrell bowed his head in assent over his mother's hand. 

For a few moments she silently stroked his hair as in his boyish days;then she said, in low tones, --

"Answer me one question, Darrell: Was she a good, pure woman?"

Darrell raised his head, his eyes looking straight into the searchingdark eyes, so like his own. 

"My little mother, " he replied, tenderly, "don't think that yourteachings all the past years or the lessons of your own sweet life werelost in those two years; their influence lived even when memory hadfailed. "

He bent and kissed her, then added: "She was scarcely more than a child;not so brilliant, perhaps, as Marion, but beautiful, good, and pure asthe driven snow. "

Hearing his father's voice outside, Darrell rose and, picking up hisjournal, opened it at the story of his love and Kate's. Then placing itopen upon a table beside his mother, he said, --

"There, mother, is the story of my Dream-Love, as I call her. Read it, and if you should wish to know anything further regarding it, ask myfather, for he knows all. "

_Chapter XXXII_

MARION HOLMES

The following day when Darrell entered his mother's rooms he found herwith his journal lying open before her. Looking up with a smile, shesaid, --

"Darrell, my dear, I would like to meet your 'Kathie, ' but that cannever be in this world. But you will meet her again, and when you do, give her a mother's love and blessing from me. "

Then, laying her hand on his arm, she added: "I understand now yourquestion regarding Marion. As I told you, it is difficult to judgeanything about her real feelings. For the first year after you went awayshe came often to see me and frequently inquired for tidings of you, butthis last year she has seemed different. She has come here lessfrequently and seldom referred to you, and appeared so engrossed in herstudies I concluded she had little thought or care for you. I may havemisjudged her, but even were that so and she did care for you still, youwould not marry her now, loving another as you do, would you?"

Darrell smiled as he met his mother's eager, questioning gaze. "If I hadwon the love of a girl like Marion Holmes, " he said, "I would do nothingthat would seem like trifling with that love; but, in justice to allparties concerned, herself in particular, I would never marry herwithout first giving her enough knowledge of the facts in the case thatshe would thoroughly understand the situation. "

His mother seemed satisfied. "Marion has brains, whether she has aheart or not, " she replied, with quiet emphasis; "and a girl of brainswould never marry a man under such circumstances. "

Handing him his journal she pointed with a smile to its inscription. 

"'Until the day break, '" she quoted; "that has been my daily watchwordall these years; strange that you, too, should have chosen it as yourown. "

Had Darrell gone to his aunt for a gauge of Marion Holmes's feelingstowards himself she could have informed him more correctly than hismother. She, with an old love hidden so deeply in her heart that no oneeven suspected its existence, understood the silent, reticent girl farbetter than her emotional, demonstrative sister. 

A few days after moving into the rooms newly fitted up for her Mrs. Britton gave what she termed "a little house-warming, " to which wereinvited a few old-time friends of her own and Mr. Britton's, togetherwith some of Darrell's associates. Among the latter Marion was, ofcourse, included, but happening at the time to be out of town, she didnot receive the invitation until two days afterwards. Meantime, Darrell, who was anxious to meet the syndicate from whom he had received hiswestern commission two years before, left on the following day for NewYork City. Consequently when Marion, upon her return, called on Mrs. Britton to explain her absence, Darrell was away. 

Marion Holmes was, as Mrs. Britton had said, a silent girl; not from anyhabitual self-repression, but from an inherent inability to express herdeeper feelings. Hers was one of those dumb speechless souls, that, finding no means of communicating with others, unable to get in touchwith those about them, go on their silent, lonely ways, no one dreamingof the depth of feeling or wealth of affection they really possess. 

The eldest child of a widowed mother, in moderate circumstances, herlife had been one of constant restriction and self-denial. Herassociation with Darrell marked a new epoch in the dreary years. For thefirst time within her memory there was something each morning to whichshe could look forward with pleasant anticipation; something to lookback upon with pleasure when the day was done. As their intimacy grewher happiness increased, and when he returned from college with highhonors her joy was unbounded. Brought up in a home where there waslittle demonstration of affection, she did not look for it here; sheloved and supposed herself loved in return, else how could there be suchan affinity between them? The depth of her love for Darrell Britton sheherself did not know until his strange disappearance; then she learnedthe place he had filled in her heart and life by the void that remained. As months passed without tidings of him she lost hope. Unable to endurethe blank monotony of her home life she took up the study of medicine, partly to divert her mind and also as a means of future self-supportmore remunerative than teaching. 

With the news of Darrell's return, hope sprang into new life, and it waswith a wild, sweet joy, which would not be stilled, pulsating throughher heart, that she went to call on Mrs. Britton. 

She had a nature supersensitive, and as she entered Mrs. Britton's roomsher heart sank and her whole soul recoiled as from a blow. With herlimited means and her multiplicity of home duties her outings had beenconfined to the small towns within a short distance of her nativevillage. These rooms, in such marked contrast to everything to whichshe had been accustomed, were to her a revelation of something beyondher of which she had had no conception; a revelation also that hercomrade of by-gone days had grown away from her, beyond her--beyond evenher reach or ken. 

Quietly, with a strange, benumbing pain, she noted every detail as sheanswered Mrs. Britton's inquiries, but conscious of the lack of affinitybetween herself and Darrell's mother, it seemed to her that the darkeyes regarding her so searchingly must read with what hopes she hadcome, and how those hopes had died. She was glad Darrell was not athome; she could not have met him then and there. But so quiet were herwords and manner, so like her usual demeanor, that Mrs. Britton said toherself, as Marion took leave, --

"I was right; she cares for Darrell only as a mere acquaintance. "

On her return she entered the parlor of her own home and stood for somemoments gazing silently about her. How shabby, how pitiably bare andmeagre and colorless! An emblem of her own life! Throwing herself uponthe threadbare little sofa where she and Darrell had spent so many happyhours reviewing their studies and talking of hopes and plans for thefuture, she burst into such bitter, passionate weeping as only natureslike hers can know. 

Darrell's trip proved successful beyond his anticipations. He found theleading members of the syndicate, to whom he explained his two years'absence and into whose possession he gave the money intrusted to hiskeeping. So delighted were they to see him after having given him up fordead, and so pleased were they with his honesty and integrity that theytendered him his old position with them, offering to continue hissalary from the date of his western commission. This offer he promptlydeclined, declaring that he would undertake no commissions or enter intono business agreements during his mother's present state of health. 

He had taken with him the completed manuscript of his geological work, and this, through the influence of one or two members of the syndicate, he succeeded in placing with a publishing house making a specialty ofscientific works. 

These facts, communicated to his parents, soon reached Miss Jewett, filling her with a pride and delight that knew no bounds. Ellisburg hadno daily paper, but it possessed a few individuals of the gentler sexwho as advertising mediums answered almost as well, and whom Miss Jewettincluded among her acquaintance. She suddenly remembered a number ofcalls which her household duties had hitherto prevented her returning, and decided that this was the most opportune time for paying them. Ordering her carriage and donning her best black silk gown, sheproceeded with due ceremony to make her round of calls, judiciouslydropping a few words here and there, which, like the seed sown on goodground, brought forth fruit, thirty, sixty, and a hundred-fold. As aresult Darrell, upon his return, found himself a literary star of thefirst magnitude, --the cynosure of all eyes. 

These reports reaching Marion only widened the gulf which she felt nowintervened between herself and Darrell. 

Almost immediately upon his return Darrell called upon her. She was athome, but sent a younger sister to admit him while she nerved herselffor the dreaded interview. As he awaited her coming he looked around himwith a sort of wonder. Each object seemed familiar, and yet, was itpossible this was the room that used to seem so bright and pleasant ashe and Marion conned their lessons together? Had it changed, hewondered, or had he?

Marion's entrance put a stop to his musings. He sprang to meet her, sheadvanced slowly. She had changed very little. Her face, unless animated, was always serious, determined; it was a shade more determined, almoststern, but it had the same strong, intellectual look which had alwaysdistinguished it and for which he had admired it. 

Darrell, on the contrary, was greatly changed. Marion, gazing at thesnow-white hair, the dark eyes with their piercing, inscrutable look, the firmly set mouth, and noting the bearing of conscious strength andpower, was unable to recognize her quondam schoolmate until he spoke;the voice and smile were the same as of old!

They clasped hands for an instant, then Darrell, as in the old days, dropped easily into one corner of the little sofa, supposing she wouldtake her accustomed place in the other corner, but, instead, she drew asmall rocker opposite and facing him, in which she seated herself. Hismanner was cordial and free as, after a few inquiries regarding herself, he spoke of his absence, touching lightly upon his illness and itsstrange consequences, and expressed his joy at finding himself at homeonce more. 

She was kind and sympathetic, but her manner was constrained. She couldnot banish the remembrance of her call upon his mother, of the contrastbetween his home and hers; and as he talked something indefinable in hislanguage, in his very movements and gestures, revealed to her sensitivenature a contrast, a difference, between them; he had somehow reachedground to which she could not attain. He drew her out to speak of hernew studies and congratulated her upon her progress; but the call wasnot a success, socially or otherwise. 

When Darrell left the house he believed more firmly than ever thatMarion had loved him in the past. Whether she had ceased to love him hecould not then determine; time would tell. 

During the weeks that followed there were numerous gatherings of asocial and informal nature where Darrell and Marion were thrown in eachother's society, but, though he still showed a preference for her overthe girls of his acquaintance, she shrank from his attentions, avoidinghim whenever she could do so without causing remark. 

Thanksgiving Day came, and Miss Jewett's guests were compelled to admitthat she had surpassed herself. The dinner was one long to beremembered. Her prize turkey occupied the place of honor, flanked on oneside by a roast duck, superbly browned, and on the other by an immensechicken pie, while savory vegetables, crisp pickles, and temptingrelishes such as she only could concoct crowded the table in everydirection. A huge plum-pudding headed the second course, with an almostendless retinue of pies, --mince, pumpkin, and apple, --while goldencustards and jellies--red, purple, and amber, of currant, grape, andpeach--brought up the rear. A third course of fruits and nuts followed, but by that time scarcely any one was able to do more than make apretence of eating. 

To this dinner were invited the minister and his wife, one or twofar-removed cousins who usually put in an appearance at this season ofthe year, Marion Holmes, and a decrepit old lady, a former friend ofMrs. Jewett's, who confided to the minister's wife that she had eaten avery light breakfast and no lunch whatever in order that she might beable to "do justice to Experience's dinner. "

Marion Holmes was not there, and Darrell, meeting her on the street thenext day, playfully took her to task. 

"Why were you not at dinner yesterday?" he inquired; "have you no moreregard for my feelings than to leave me to be sandwiched between theparson's wife and old Mrs. Pettigrew?"

"I might have gone had I known such a fate as that awaited you, " shereplied, laughing; "but, " she added with some spirit, thinking it bestto come to the point at once, "I can see no reason for thrusting myselfinto your family gatherings simply because you and I were good comradesin the past. "

"Were we not something more than merely good comrades, Marion?" heasked, anxious to ascertain her real feelings towards himself; "itseemed to me we were, or at least that we thought we were. "

"That may be, " she answered, her color rising slightly; "but if wethought so then, that is no reason for deceiving ourselves any longer. "

She intended to mislead him, and she did. 

"Very well, " he replied; "we will not deceive ourselves; we will have agood understanding with ourselves and with each other. Is there anyreason why we should not be at least good comrades now?"

"I know of none, " she answered, meeting his eyes without wavering. 

"Then let us act as such, and not like two silly children, afraid ofeach other. Is that a compact?" he asked, smiling and extending hishand. 

"It is, " she replied, smiling brightly in return as their hands clasped, thus by word and act renouncing her dearest hopes without his dreamingof the sacrifice. 

_Chapter XXXIII_

INTO THE FULNESS OF LIFE

With the opening of cold weather the seeming betterment in Mrs. Britton's health proved but temporary. As the winter advanced she failedrapidly, until, unable to sit up, she lay on a low couch, wheeled fromroom to room to afford all the rest and change possible. Day by day herpallor grew more and more like the waxen petals of the lily, while thefatal rose flush in her cheek deepened, and her eyes, unnaturally largeand lustrous, had in them the look of those who dwell in the borderland. 

She realized her condition as fully as those about her, but there wasneither fear nor regret in the eyes, which, fixed on the glory invisibleto them, caught and reflected the light of the other world, till, in thelast days, those watching her saw her face "as it had been the face ofan angel. "

No demonstration of sorrow marred the peace in which her soul dwelt thelast days of its stay, for the very room seemed hallowed, a place toosacred for the intrusion of any personal grief. 

Turning one day to her husband, who seldom left her side, she said, --

"My sorrow made me selfish; I see it now. Look at the good you havedone, the many you have helped; what have I done, what have I to showfor all these years?"

Just then Darrell passed the window before which she was lying. 

"There is your work, Patience, " Mr. Britton replied, tenderly; "you havethat to show for those years of loneliness and suffering. Surely, love, you have done noble work there; work whose results will last foryears--probably for generations--yet to come!"

Her face lighted with a rapturous smile. "I had not thought of that, "she whispered; "I will not go empty-handed after all. Perhaps He willsay of me, as of one of old, 'She hath done what she could. '"

From that time she sank rapidly, sleeping lightly, waking occasionallywith a child-like smile, then lapsing again into unconsciousness. 

One evening as the day was fading she awoke from a long sleep and lookedintently into the faces gathered about her. Her pastor, who had knownher through all the years of her sorrow, was beside her. Bending overher and looking into the eyes now dimmed by the approaching shadows, hesaid, --

"You have not much longer to wait, my dear sister. "

With a significant gesture she pointed to the fading light. 

"'Until the day break, '" she murmured, with difficulty. 

He was quick to catch her meaning and bowed his head in token that heunderstood; then, raising his hand above her head, as though inbenediction, in broken tones he slowly pronounced the words, --

"'Thy sun shall no more go down; neither shall thy moon withdraw itself:for the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the days of thymourning shall be ended. '"

Her face brightened; a seraphic smile burst forth, irradiating everyfeature with a light which never faded, for, with a look of lovingfarewell into the faces of husband and son, she sank into a sleep fromwhich she did not wake, and when, as the day was breaking over theeastern hill-tops, her soul took flight, the smile still lingered, deepening into such perfect peace as is seldom seen on mortal faces. 

As Darrell, a few moments later, stood at the window, watching the starspaling one by one in the light of the coming dawn, a bit of verse withwhich he had been familiar years before, but which he had not recalleduntil then, recurred to him with peculiar force:

 "A soul passed out on its way toward Heaven As soon as the word of release was given; And the trail of the meteor swept around The lovely form of the homeward-bound. Glimmering, shimmering, there on high, The stars grew dim as one passed them by; And the earth was never again so bright, For a soul had slipped from its place that night. "

After Mrs. Britton's death, deprived of her companionship and of thenumberless little ministrations to her comfort in which they haddelighted, both Mr. Britton and Darrell found life strangely empty. Theyalso missed the strenuous western life to which they had beenaccustomed, with its ceaseless demands upon both muscle and brain. Thelife around them seemed narrow and restricted; the very monotony of thelandscape wearied them; they longed for the freedom and activity of theWest, the breadth and height of the mountains. 

As both were standing one day beside the resting-place of the wife andmother, which Mr. Britton had himself chosen for her, the latter said, --

"John, there are no longer any ties to hold us here. You may have toremain here until affairs are settled, but I have no place, and wantnone, in Hosea Jewett's home. I am going back to the West; and I knowthat sooner or later you will return also, for your heart is among themountains. But before we separate I want one promise from you, my son. "

"Name it, " said Darrell; "you know, father, I would fulfil any and everywish of yours within my power. "

"It was my wish in the past, when my time should come to die, to beburied on the mountain-side, near the Hermitage. But life henceforth forme will be altogether different from what it has been heretofore; and Iwant your promise, John, if you outlive me, that when the end comes, nomatter where I may be, you will bring me back to her, that when oursouls are reunited our bodies may rest together here, within sound ofthe river's voice and shielded by the overhanging boughs from winter'sstorm and summer's heat. "

Father and son clasped hands above the newly made grave. 

"I promise you, father, " Darrell replied; "but you did not need to askthe pledge. "

When John Britton left Ellisburg a few days later a crowd of friendswere gathered at the little depot to extend their sympathy and bid himfarewell. A few were old associates of his own, some were his wife'sfriends, and some Darrell's. To those who had known him in the past hewas greatly changed, and none of them quite understood his quaintphilosophizings, his broad views, or his seeming isolation from theirwork-a-day, business world in which he had formerly taken so active apart. They knew naught of his years of solitary life or of how livesspent in years of contemplation and reflection, of retrospection andintrospection, become gradually lifted out of the ordinary channels ofthought and out of touch with the more practical life of the world. Butthey had had abundant evidence of his love and devotion to his wife, andof his kindness and liberality towards many of their own number, and forthese they loved him. 

There was not one, however, who mourned his departure so deeply asExperience Jewett, though she gave little expression to her sorrow. Shehad hoped that after her sister's death his home would still be withthem. This, not from any weak sentimentality or any thought that hewould ever be aught than as a brother to her, but because his verypresence in the home was refreshing, helpful, comforting, and because itwas a joy to be near him, to hear him talk, and to minister to hiscomfort. But he was going from them, as she well knew, never to return, and beneath the brave, smiling face she carried a sore and aching heart. 

Thus John Britton bade the East farewell and turned his face towards thegreat West, mindful only of the grave under the elms, to which the rivermurmured night and day, and with no thought of return until he, too, should come to share that peaceful resting place. 

_Chapter XXXIV_

A WARNING

Spring had come again and Walcott's probationary year with Mr. Underwoodhad nearly expired. For a while he had maintained his old suavity ofmanner and business had been conducted satisfactorily, but as monthspassed and Kate Underwood was unapproachable as ever and the prospect ofreconciliation between them seemed more remote, he grew sullen andmorose, and Mr. Underwood began to detect signs of mismanagement. Determined to wait until he had abundance of evidence with which toconfront him, however, he said nothing, but continued to watch him withunceasing vigilance. 

Mr. Underwood, though able to attend to business, had never fullyrecovered from the illness of the preceding year. His physician advisedhim to retire from business, as any excitement or shock would be likelyto cause a second attack far more serious than the first; but to thisMr. Underwood would not listen, clinging tenaciously to the old routineto which he had been accustomed. Kate, realizing her father's condition, guarded him with watchful solicitude from every possible worry andanxiety, spending much of her time with him, and even familiarizingherself with many details of his business in order to assist him. 

In the months since Darrell's return east Kate had matured in many ways. Her tall, slender form was beginning to round out in symmetricalproportions, and her voice, always sweet, had developed wonderfully involume and range. She had taken up the study of music anew, both vocaland instrumental, devoting her leisure hours to arduous practice, herfather having promised her a thorough course of study in Europe, forwhich she was preparing herself with great enthusiasm. 

Though no words were exchanged between Mr. Underwood and Walcott, thelatter became conscious of the other's growing disfavor, and theconviction gradually forced itself upon him that all hope of gaining hispartner's daughter in marriage was futile. For Kate Underwood he caredlittle, except as a means of securing a hold upon her father's wealth. As he found himself compelled to abandon this scheme and saw the prizehe had thus hoped to gain slipping farther and farther from his grasp, his rage made him desperate, and he determined to gain all or lose allin one mad venture. To make ready for this would require weeks, perhapsmonths, but he set about his preparations with method and deliberation. Either the boldness of his plan or his absorption in the expectedoutcome made him negligent of details, however, and slowly, but surely, Mr. Underwood gathered the proofs of his guilt with which he intended toconfront him when the opportune moment arrived. But even yet he did notdream the extent of his partner's frauds or the villany of which he wascapable; he therefore took no one into his confidence and sought noassistance. 

Kate was quick to observe the change in Walcott's manner and to note themalignity lurking in the half-closed eyes whenever they encountered herown or her father's gaze, and, while saying nothing to excite or worrythe latter, redoubled her vigilance, seldom leaving him alone. 

Affairs had reached this state when, with the early spring days, Mr. Britton returned from the East and stopped for a brief visit at ThePines. In a few days he divined enough of the situation to lead him tosuspect that danger of some kind threatened his old friend. A hint fromKate confirmed his suspicion, and he resolved to prolong his stay andawait developments. 

One afternoon soon after his arrival Kate, returning from a walk, whilepassing up the driveway met a woman coming from The Pines. The latterwas tall, dressed in black, and closely veiled, --a stranger, --yetsomething in her appearance seemed familiar. Suddenly Kate recalled the"Señora" who sent the summons to Walcott on that day set for theirmarriage, more than a year before. Though she had caught only a briefglimpse of the black-robed and veiled figure within the carriage, sheremembered a peculiarly graceful poise of the head as she had leanedforward for a final word with Walcott, and by that she identified thewoman now approaching her. Each regarded the other closely as they met. To Kate it seemed as though the woman hesitated for the fraction of asecond, as though about to speak, but she passed on silently. Onreaching a turn in the driveway Kate, looking back, saw the womanstanding near the large gates watching her, but the latter, findingherself observed, passed through the gates to the street and walkedaway. 

Perplexed and somewhat annoyed, Kate proceeded on her way to the house. She believed the woman to be in some way associated with Walcott, andthat her presence there presaged evil of some sort. As she entered thesitting-room her aunt looked up with a smile from her seat before thefire. 

"You have just had rather a remarkable caller, Katherine. "

"That woman in black whom I just met?" Kate asked, betraying nosurprise, for she felt none; she was prepared at that moment for almostany announcement. 

"Who was she, Aunt Marcia? and what did she want with me?"

"She refused to give her name, but said to tell you 'a friend' called. She seemed disappointed at not seeing you, and as she was leaving shesaid, 'Say to her she has a friend where she least thinks it, and ifshe, or any one she loves, is in danger, I will come and warn her. ' Shewas very quiet-appearing, notwithstanding her tragic language. You sayyou met her; what do you think of her?"

Kate had been thinking rapidly. "I have seen her once before, auntie. Iam positive she is in some way connected with Mr. Walcott, and equallypositive that he has some evil designs against papa; but why she shouldwarn me against him, if that is her intention, I cannot imagine. "

"Is there no way of warning your father, Katherine?" Mrs. Dean inquired, anxiously. 

"Mr. Britton and I have talked it over, auntie. We think papa suspectshim and is watching him, but so long as he doesn't take either of usinto his confidence we don't want to excite or worry him by suggestingany danger. This woman may or may not be friendly, as she claims, but inany event, if she comes again, I must see her. Whatever danger there maybe I want to know it; then I'm not afraid but that I can defend papa ormyself in case of trouble. "

For several days Kate scanned her horizon closely for portents of thecoming storm. She saw nothing of the mysterious woman who had styledherself a friend, but on more than one occasion she had a fleetingglimpse of the man who on that memorable day brought the message fromher to Walcott, and Kate felt that a dénouement of some kind was near. 

Walcott's preparations were nearly perfected; another week wouldcomplete them. By that time the funds of the firm as well as largedeposits held in trust, would be where he could lay his fingers on themat a moment's notice. At a given signal two trusted agents would be atthe side entrance with fleet horses on which they would travel to aneighboring village, and there, where their appearance would excite nosuspicion, they were to board the late express, which would carry themto a point whence they could easily reach a place of safety. 

But his well-laid plans were suddenly checked by a request one afternoonfrom his senior partner to meet him in his private office that eveningat eight o'clock. The tone in which this request was preferred arousedWalcott's suspicions that an investigation might be pending, and, enraged at being thus checkmated, he determined to strike at once. 

At dinner Mr. Underwood mentioned an engagement which would, he said, detain him for an hour or so that evening, but having never since hisillness gone to the offices in the evening, no one supposed it more thanan ordinary business appointment with some friend. 

He had left the house only a few moments when a caller was announced forMiss Underwood. 

Kate's heart gave a sudden bound as, on entering the reception-hall, shesaw again the woman whose coming was to be a warning of danger. She was, as usual, dressed in black and heavily veiled. Kate was conscious of nofear; rather a joy that the suspense was over, that there was at lastsomething definite and tangible to face. 

"Señorita, may I see you in private?" The voice was sweet, but somewhatmuffled by the veil, while the words had just enough of the Spanishaccent to render them liquid and musical. 

Kate bowed in assent, and silently led the way to a small reception-roomof her own. She motioned her caller to a seat, but the latter remainedstanding and turned swiftly, facing Kate, still veiled. 

"Señorita, you do not know me?" The words had the rising inflection of aquestion. 

"No, " Kate replied, slowly; "I do not know you; but I know that this isnot your first call at The Pines. "

"I called some ten days since to see you. "

"You called, " Kate spoke deliberately, "more than a year since to seeMr. Walcott. "

The woman started and drew back slightly. "How could you know?" sheexclaimed; "surely he did not tell you!"

"I saw you. "

There was a moment's silence; when next she spoke her voice was lowerand more musical. 

"Señorita, I come as your friend; do you believe me?"

"I want to believe you, " Kate answered, frankly, "but I can tell betterwhether I do or not when I know more of you and of your errands here. "

For answer the woman, with a sudden swift movement, threw back her veil, revealing a face of unusual beauty, --oval in contour, of a rich olivetint, with waving masses of jet-black hair, framing a low, broadforehead. But her eyes were what drew Kate's attention: large, lustrous, but dark and unfathomable as night, yet with a look in them of dumb, agonizing appeal. The two women formed a striking contrast as theystood face to face; they seemed to impersonate Hope and Despair. 

"Señorita, " she said, in a low, passionless voice, "I am Señor Walcott'swife. "

Kate's very soul seemed to recoil at the words, but she did not start orshrink. 

"I have the certificate of our marriage here, " she continued, producinga paper, "signed by the holy father who united us. "

Kate waved it back. "I do not wish to see it, nor do I doubt your word, "she replied, gently; "I understand now why you first came to this house. What brings you here to-night?"

"I come to warn you that your father is in danger. "

"My father!" Kate exclaimed, quickly, her whole manner changed. "Where?How?"

"Señor Walcott has an engagement with him at eight o'clock at theiroffices, and he means to do him harm, I know not just what; but he isangry with him, I know not why, and he is a dangerous man when he isangry. "

Kate touched a bell to summon a servant. "I will go to him at once;but, " she added, looking keenly into the woman's face, "how do you knowof this? How did you learn it? Did he tell you?"

The other shook her head with a significant gesture. "He tells menothing; he tells no one but Tony, and Tony tells me nothing; but I sawthem talking together to-night, and he was very angry. I overheard somewords. I heard him say he would see your father to-night and make himsorry he had not done as he agreed, and he showed Tony a little stilettowhich he carries with him, and then he laughed. "

Kate shuddered slightly. "Who is Tony?" she asked. 

The woman smiled with another gesture. "Tony is--Tony; that is all Iknow. He and my husband know each other. "

A servant appeared; Kate ordered her own carriage brought to the door atonce. Then, turning on a sudden impulse to the stranger, she said, --

"Will you come with me? Or are you afraid of him--afraid to have himknow you warned me?"

The woman laughed bitterly. "I feared him once, " she said; "but I fearhim no longer; he fears me now. Yes, I will go with you. "

"Then wait here; I will be ready in a moment. "

At twenty minutes of eight Kate and the stranger passed down the halltogether--the woman veiled, Kate attired in a trim walking suit. Thelatter stopped to look in at the sitting-room door. 

"Aunt Marcia, Mr. Britton said he would be out but a few minutes. Whenhe comes in please tell him I want to see him at papa's office; mycarriage will be waiting for him here. "

Her aunt looked her surprise, but she knew Kate to be enough like herfather that it was useless to ask an explanation where she herself madenone. 

Once seated in the carriage and driving rapidly down the street Katelaid her hand on the arm of her strange companion. 

"Señora, " she said, "you say you are my friend; were you my friend thefirst time you came to the house? If not then, why are you now?"

"No, I was not your friend;" for the first time there was a ring ofpassion in her voice; "I hated you, for I thought he loved you--that youhad stolen his heart and made him forget me. I travelled many miles. Ivowed to kill you both before you should marry him. Then I found hecould not marry you while I was his wife; he had told me our marriagewas void here because performed in another country. I found he had toldme wrong, and I told him unless he came with me I would go to the churchand tell them there I was his wife. "

"And he went away with you?" Kate questioned. 

"Yes, and he gave me money, and then he told me----" The womanhesitated. 

"Go on, " said Kate. 

"He told me that he did not love you; that he only wanted to marry youthat he might get money from your father, and then he would leave you. So when I found he wanted to make you suffer as he had me I began topity you. I came back to Ophir to see what you were like. He does notknow that I am here. I found he was angry because you would not marryhim. Then I was glad. I saw you many times that you did not know. Yourface was kind and good, as though you would pity me if you knew all, andI loved you. I heard something about a lover you had a few years ago whodied, and I knew your heart must have been sad for him, and I vowed heshould never harm you or any one you loved. "

They had reached the offices; the carriage stopped, but not beforeKate's hand had sought and found the stranger's in silent token that sheunderstood. 

_Chapter XXXV_

A FIEND AT BAY

Kate, on leaving her carriage, directed the driver to go back to ThePines to await Mr. Britton's return and bring him immediately to theoffice. She then unlocked the door to the room which had been Darrell'soffice and which opened directly upon the street, and she and hercompanion entered and seated themselves in the darkness. The room nextadjoining was Walcott's private office, and beyond that was Mr. Underwood's private office, the two latter rooms being separated by asmall entrance. They had waited but a few moments when Mr. Underwood'scarriage stopped before this entrance, and an instant later Kate heardher father's voice directing the coachman to call for him in about anhour. As the key turned in the lock she heard Walcott's voice also. Thetwo men entered and went at once into Mr. Underwood's private office. 

Mr. Underwood immediately proceeded to business in his usual abruptfashion:

"Mr. Walcott, there is no use dallying or beating about the bush; I wantthis partnership terminated at once. There's no use in an honest man anda thief trying to do business together, and this interview to-night isto find the shortest way of dissolving the partnership. "

"I think that can be very easily and quickly done, Mr. Underwood, "Walcott replied. 

Kate, who had stationed herself in the entrance where she had a view ofboth men, saw the cruel leer that accompanied Walcott's words andunderstood their significance as her father did not. Her hand sought thebosom of her dress for an instant, then dropped quietly at her side, butswift as the movement was, her companion had seen in the dim light thegleam of the weapon now partially concealed by the folds of her skirt. With noiseless, cat-like step she approached Kate and touched her arm. 

"You will not shoot? You will not kill him?" she breathed rather thanwhispered. 

Kate's only reply was to lay her finger on her lips, never removing hereyes from Walcott's face, but even then, in her absorption, she noted apeculiar quality in those scarcely audible tones, something that wasneither fear nor love; there seemed somehow an element of savagery inthem. 

Meanwhile, Mr. Underwood was going rapidly through the evidence which hehad accumulated, showing mismanagement and fraud in the conduct of thebusiness of the firm and misappropriation of some of the funds held intrust. Of the wholesale robbery, the plans for which Walcott had sonearly perfected, he knew absolutely nothing. As Walcott listened, thesneer on his face deepened. 

"You seem to have gone to a vast amount of labor for nothing, " heremarked, as Mr. Underwood concluded. "I could have given you that muchinformation off-hand. You have not lived up to your part of thecontract, and I see no reason why I should be expected to fulfil mine. You promised me your daughter in marriage, and then simply because shesaw fit----"

"We will leave my daughter's name out of this controversy, sir, " Mr. Underwood interposed, sternly. "Were it not for the fact that your namehas been publicly associated with hers, I would prosecute you for thescoundrel and black-leg that you are. "

"But for the sake of your daughter's name you intend to deal lenientlywith me, " Walcott sneered. "Supposing we come at once to the point ofdissolving our partnership; it cannot be done any too quickly for me. May I inquire on what terms you propose to settle?"

Mr. Underwood went briefly over the terms which he had outlined on asheet of paper before him on his desk; Walcott, seated eight or ten feetdistant, listened, his dark face paling with anger. 

"Pardon me, " he said, at the conclusion; "I think I missed a fewdetails; suppose we go over that again together. "

He rose and advanced towards Mr. Underwood's chair as though to lookover his shoulder, at the same time thrusting his right hand within theinner pocket of his coat. Before he had covered half the space, however, a voice rang through the room with startling clearness, --

"Not a step farther, or you are a dead man!"

Both men turned, to see Kate Underwood standing in the doorway, holdinga revolver levelled at Walcott with an aim which the latter's practisedeye told him to be both sure and deadly. Astonishment and rage passed inquick succession over his countenance; he looked for an instant asthough contemplating some desperate move. 

"Stir one hair's breadth, and you are a dead man!" she repeated. Heremained motionless, and the hand just withdrawn from his coat disclosedto view a tiny, glittering stiletto. 

Kate's only anxious thought was for her father, who, too bewildered tomove or speak, was for the time as motionless as Walcott himself; shefeared lest the suddenness of the shock might prove too much for him. Toher relief, she heard Mr. Britton entering. He took in the situation ata glance and sprang at once to her side. 

"I am all right, " she cried, brightly; "look after papa, first; then wewill attend to this creature. "

With the revolver still levelled at Walcott, Kate slowly advancedtowards him. 

"Give me that weapon!" she demanded. 

He gave a sinister smile, but before she had taken another step, hercompanion sprang into the room with a piercing cry and intercepted her:

"No, no, Señorita!" she exclaimed; "do not touch it! Mother of God! itis poisoned; a single scratch means death!"

At sight of her, Walcott's face grew livid. "You fiend! You she-devil!"he hissed; "this is your doing, is it?" and he burst into a torrent ofcurses and imprecations. 

"Be silent!" Mr. Britton ordered, sternly, and Kate accompanied thecommand with an ominous click of her revolver. The wretch cowered intosilence, but his eyes glowed with fairly demoniac fury. 

"Now, " said Mr. Underwood, his faculties fully restored, "I want to knowthe meaning of this; let us sift this whole thing to the bottom. "

"Search your man, first, David, " said Mr. Britton, and suiting theaction to the word he approached Walcott, but was warded off by thewoman standing near. 

"No, no, Señor, a little turn of the wrist, so slight you would not see, would cause death. I will take it from him; the viper dare not stingme!"

As she extended her hand she tauntingly held her wrist close to the tinypoint, scarcely larger than a good-sized pin. 

"Life and freedom are precious, Señor!" she said, in low, mocking tones, as she took the weapon from him and handed it to Mr. Britton, who laidit carefully on a table near by, and then proceeded to search Walcott'sclothing, saying. --

"I want you to see what you have been dealing with, David. "

To the stiletto already placed upon the table were added another oflarger size, two loaded revolvers, several packages of valuablesecurities taken from the vaults of the firm that afternoon, and anearly complete set of duplicate keys to the safes and deposit boxes ofthe offices. 

Mr. Britton then relieved Kate, congratulating her warmly, and stationedhimself near Walcott, who glowered like a wild beast that, temporarilyrestrained by the keeper's lash, only awaits opportunity for a morefurious onslaught later. 

Kate stepped at once to her father's side; he turned upon her a look ofaffectionate pride, but before he could speak, she had drawn forward hercompanion, saying, --

"Here is one, papa, to whom we owe much. She has saved your lifeto-night, for I would not have known you were in danger if she had notwarned me, and she saved me from worse than death in preventing thecarrying out of the farce of an illegal marriage with that villain, bygiving me a glimpse of his real character before it was too late. "

The change that passed over Mr. Underwood's countenance during Kate'swords was fearful to see. From the kindliness and courtesy with which hehad greeted the stranger his face seemed changed to granite, so hardand relentless it became. 

"An illegal marriage? What do you mean?" he demanded, and there wassomething in his voice that no one present had ever heard there before. 

"Illegal, papa, because this woman is his lawful wife. " And Kate gave abrief explanation of the situation. 

"Is that so?" he appealed to the woman, his tones strangely quiet. 

"Yes, Señor; I have the papers to prove it. "

"Do you admit it?" he demanded of Walcott, with a glance which made thelatter quail, while his hand sought one of the loaded revolvers lying onthe table. 

"We were married years ago, but I did not know the woman was living; Iswear I did not. I supposed she was dead until the day she came to me. "

"How about the past year? You have known all this time that she wasliving, yet you have dared to press your suit for my daughter, you dog!Not another word!" he exclaimed, as Walcott strove to form some excuse. 

He raised his hand and the revolver gleamed in the light. Mr. Brittongrasped him by the arm. 

"David, old friend, calm yourself!" he exclaimed. "Don't be rash orfoolish; let the law take its course. "

"The law!" interposed Mr. Underwood, fiercely; "do you think I'd take acase of this kind into the courts? Charges such as these against a manwhose name has been publicly associated with my daughter's as herbetrothed husband, and the principal witness against that man his ownwife! Do you suppose for a moment I'll have my daughter's name draggedthrough such mire? No, by God! I'll blow the dog's brains out with myown hand first!"

A fierce struggle ensued for a moment between the two men, which endedin John Britton's disarming his friend, Kate meanwhile keeping Walcottat bay as he sought in the momentary confusion to effect an escape. 

Once calmed, Mr. Underwood, notwithstanding Mr. Britton's protestations, sullenly refused to prosecute Walcott. Telephoning for an attorney whowas an old-time and trusted friend, he had an agreement drawn andsigned, whereby, upon the repayment of the funds belonging to him, afterdeducting an amount therefrom sufficient to replace what he hadmisappropriated, he was to leave the country altogether. 

"You have escaped this time, " were Mr. Underwood's parting words; "butremember, if you ever again seek to injure me or mine, no power on earthcan save you, and I'll not go into the courts either. "

As Kate and her strange companion parted, the former inquired, "Why didyou ask me not to shoot him? You surely cannot love him!"

"Love him?" she exclaimed, softly. "No, but I feared you would kill him. His time has not come yet, Señorita, but when it does, this must be thehand!" She lifted her own right hand with a significant movement as shesaid this, and glided out into the darkness and was gone ere Kate couldrecall her. 

When Kate and her father, with Mr. Britton's assistance, beforereturning home for the night, removed the articles taken from Walcott'spockets, the tiny, poisoned stiletto was nowhere to be found. 

_Chapter XXXVI_

SENORA MARTINEZ

Although Mr. Underwood escaped the stroke which it was feared mightfollow the excitement of his final interview with Walcott, it was soonapparent that his nervous system had suffered from the shock. Hisphysician became insistent in his demands that he not only retire frombusiness, but have an entire change of scene, to insure absoluterelaxation and rest. This advice was earnestly seconded by Mr. Britton, not alone for the sake of his friend's health, but more especiallybecause he believed it unsafe for Mr. Underwood or Kate to remain inthat part of the country so long as Walcott had his liberty. Theircombined counsel and entreaties at length prevailed. A responsible manwas found to take charge, under Mr. Britton's supervision, of Mr. Underwood's business interests. The Pines was closed, two or threefaithful servants being retained to guard and care for the property, andearly in April Mr. Underwood, accompanied by his sister and daughter, left Ophir ostensibly for the South. They remained south, however, onlyuntil he had recuperated sufficiently for a longer journey, and thensailed for Europe, but of this fact no one in Ophir had knowledge saveMr. Britton. 

During the last days of Kate's stay in Ophir she watched in vain foranother glimpse of her strange friend. On the morning of her departure, as the train was leaving the depot, she suddenly saw the olive-skinnedmessenger of former occasions running alongside the Pullman in whichshe was seated. Catching her eye, he motioned for her to raise thewindow; she did so, whereupon he tossed a little package into her lap, pointing at the same time farther down the platform, and lifting hisragged sombrero, vanished. An instant later the Señora came into view, standing at the extreme end of the platform, a lace mantilla thrownabout her head and shoulders, the ends of which she now waved in tokenof farewell. Kate held up the little package with a smile; she respondedwith a deprecatory gesture indicative of its insignificance, then withanother wave of the lace scarf and a flutter of Kate's handkerchief, they passed out of each other's sight. 

Kate hastily undid the package; a little box of ebony inlaid with pearlslipped from the wrappings, which, upon touching a secret spring, opened, disclosing a small cross of Etruscan gold of the most exquisiteworkmanship. In her first letter to Mr. Britton Kate related theincident, and begged him to look out for the woman and render her anyassistance possible. 

To this Mr. Britton needed no urging. Since his first sight of her thatnight in Mr. Underwood's office he had been looking for her, for atwofold purpose. For a number of weeks he failed to get even a glimpseof her, nor could he obtain any clew to her whereabouts. 

One night, well into the summer, he came upon her, unexpectedly, standing in front of a cheap restaurant, looking at the ediblesdisplayed in the window. She was not veiled, her face was pale andhaggard, and there was no mistaking the expression in her eyes as shefinally turned away. 

"My friend, " said Mr. Britton, laying his hand gently on her shoulder, "are you hungry?"

She shrank from him with a start till a glance in his face reassuredher, and she answered, with an expressive gesture, --

"Yes, Señor; I have had nothing to eat to-day, and but littleyesterday. "

"This is no fit place; come with me, " Mr. Britton replied, leading theway two or three blocks down the street, to a first-class restaurant. Heconducted her through the ladies' entrance into a private box, where heordered a substantial dinner for two. 

"Señor, " she protested, as the waiter left the box, "I have no money, noway to repay you for this, you understand?"

"I understand, " he answered, quickly; "I want no return for this. MissUnderwood wished me to find you, and help you, if I could. "

"Yes, I know; you are the Señorita's friend. "

"And your friend also, if I can help you. "

"You saved his life that night, Señor; I do not forget, " the woman said, with peculiar emphasis. 

"Yes, I undoubtedly saved the scoundrel from a summary vengeance;possibly I might not have done it, had I known what the alternativewould be. Where is that man now?" he asked, with sudden directness. 

"I do not know, Señor; he tells me nothing, but I have heard he wentsouth some time ago. "

The entrance of the waiter with their orders put a temporary stop toconversation. The woman ate silently, regarding Mr. Britton from time totime with an expression of childlike wonder. When her hunger wasappeased, and she seemed inclined to talk, he said, --

"Tell me something of yourself. When and where did you marry that man?"

"We were married in Mexico, seven years ago. "

"Your home was in Mexico?"

"No, Señor, my father owned a big cattle ranch in Texas. Señor Walcott, as you call him here, worked for him. He wanted to marry me, but myfather opposed the marriage. We lived close to the line, so we wentacross one day and were married. My father was very angry, but I was hisonly child, and by and by he forgave and took us back. "

"Do I understand you that Walcott is not this man's real name?" Mr. Britton interposed. 

"His name is José Martinez, Señor. "

"But is he not a half-breed? I have understood his father was anEnglishman. "

"His father was an Englishman, but no one ever knew who he was, youunderstand, Señor? Afterwards his mother married Pablo Martinez, and herchild took his name. That was why my father opposed our marriage. "

"I understand, " said Mr. Britton; "but he claims heavy cattle interestsin the South; how did he come by them?"

"My father's, all of them;" she replied. "He and my father quarrelledsoon after we went there to live. Then we came away north; we lived fora while in this State, "--she paused and hesitated as though fearing shehad said too much, but Mr. Britton's face betrayed nothing, and shecontinued: "Then, in a year or so, we went south and he and my fatherquarrelled again. My father was found dead on the plains, trampled bythe cattle, but no one knew how it came about. Then José took everythingand told me I had nothing. He went north again three years ago. A yearlater he came back and told me I was not his wife, that our marriage wasvoid because it was not performed in this country. I became very ill. Hetook me away among strangers and left me there, to die, as he thought. But he was mistaken. I had something to live for, --to follow him, as Ihave followed him and will follow him to the end. "

The woman rose from the table; Mr. Britton rose also, and stood for amoment, facing her. 

"He is a dangerous man, " he said; "how is it that you do not fear him?"

She laughed softly. "He fears me, Señor; why should I fear him?"

"I understand, " Mr. Britton said; "he fears you because you know him tobe a criminal; because his freedom--perhaps his very life--is in yourhands. Why are you not in danger on that account? What is to hinder histaking a life so inimical to his own?"

A cunning, treacherous smile crept over her face and a baleful lightgleamed in her eyes, as she replied, "If I die at his hand my secretdoes not die with me. I have fixed that. If I die to-day, the worldknows my secret to-morrow. He knows it, Señor, and I am safe. "

"Did it never occur to you, " said Mr. Britton, slowly, "that for thesafety of others your secret should be made known now?"

The woman's whole appearance changed; she regarded Mr. Britton with alook of mingled anger and terror, as he continued:

"That man's life and freedom are a constant menace to other lives. Areyou willing to take the responsibility of the results which may followyour withholding that secret, keeping it locked within your own breast?"

The woman looked quickly for a chance of escape, but Mr. Britton barredthe only means of exit. Her expression was that of a creature brought tobay. 

"I understand the meaning of your kindness to-night, " she cried, fiercely. "You are one of the 'fly' men, and you thought to buy mysecret from me. Let me tell you, you will never buy it, nor can youforce it from me! So long as he does me no harm I will never make itknown, and if I die a natural death, it dies with me!"

"You are mistaken, " he replied, calmly; "I am no detective, no officialof any sort. My bringing you here to-night was of itself whollydisinterested, done for the sake of a friend who wished me to help you. I have wished to meet you and talk with you, as I was interested tolearn your story, out of sympathy for you and a desire to help you, andalso to shed new light on your husband's character, of which I have madequite a study; but I am not seeking to force you into making anydisclosures against your will. "

Her anger had subsided as quickly as it had been aroused. 

"Pardon me, Señor, " she said; "I was wrong. Accept my gratitude for yourkindness; I will not forget. "

"Don't mention it. If you need help at any time, let me know; I do notforget that you saved my friend's life. But one word in parting: don'tthink your secret will not become known. Those things always workthemselves out, and justice will overtake that man yet. When it does, your own life may not be as safe as you now think it is. If you need afriend then, come to me. "

The woman regarded him silently for a moment. "Thank you, Señor, " shesaid, gently; "I understand. Justice will yet overtake him, as you say;and when it does, " she added, significantly, "I will need no help. "

_Chapter XXXVII_

THE IDENTIFICATION

The following September found Darrell again in Ophir and re-establishedin his old-time quarters. To his old office he had added the roomformerly occupied by Walcott, his increasing business demanding moreoffice room and the presence of an assistant. 

Before leaving the East he revisited the members of his old syndicateand informed them that he intended henceforth making his head-quartersin the West, and if they wished to employ him as their expert, he wouldexecute commissions from that point. To this they readily agreed, andalso gave him letters of introduction to a number of capitalistsinterested in western mining properties, who were only too glad tosecure the services of a reliable expert who would be on the ground andfamiliar with existing conditions. As a result, Darrell had scarcelyreopened business at his former quarters before he found himself withnumerous eastern commissions to be executed, in addition to his old workas assayer. 

He was prepared for the changes which had taken place during the year ofhis absence, his father having kept him thoroughly informed of all thathad occurred. 

Darrell was delighted at the story of Kate Underwood's coolness andbravery in saving her father's life, and sent her a note of heartycongratulation, which she kept among her cherished treasures. Since thattime, occasional letters were exchanged between them; hers, bright, entertaining sketches of their travels here and there, with commentscharacteristic of herself regarding places and people; his, permeatedwith the fresh, exhilarating atmosphere of the mountains, and pervadedby a vigor and virility which roused Kate's admiration, yet led her towonder if this could be the same lover who had won her childish heart inthose idyllic days. Each realized the fact that notwithstanding theirlove, notwithstanding their stanch comradeship, at present they werelittle more than strangers. Darrell's love for Kate was a reality, buther personality, so far as he could recall it, was little more than adream; each letter revealed some unexpected phase of her character; hefound their correspondence an unfailing source of pleasure, and wascontent to await the time of their meeting, confident that he would findthe real woman all and more than the ideal which he fondly cherished ashis Dream-Love. And to Kate, each letter of Darrell's brought more andmore forcibly the conviction that the lover whom she remembered was as adream compared with the reality she was to meet some day. 

About six months had elapsed when Darrell received, early one morning, the following telegram from his father, summoning him to Galena:

 "Come over on first train. Important. "

By the first train he would reach Galena a little before noon; he hadnot breakfasted, and had but twenty minutes in which to make it. Callinga carriage, he went directly to his office, where he left a briefexplanatory note for the clerk, written on the way, then drove with allpossible speed to the depot, arriving on time but without a minute tospare. He breakfasted on the train, and while running over the morningpaper, his attention was caught by a despatch from Galena to the effectthat one of the leading banks in that city had been entered and the safeopened and robbed on the preceding night. The robbers, of whom therewere three, had been discovered by the police. A fight had ensued inwhich one officer and one of the robbers were killed, the second robberwounded, while the third had made his escape with most of the plunder. It was further stated that they were known to belong to the notoriousband of outlaws so long the terror of that region, and it was believedthe wounded man was none other than the leader himself, the murderer ofHarry Whitcomb and the young express clerk, for whom there was astanding reward of twenty-five thousand dollars, dead or alive. The manwas to have a preliminary examination that afternoon, and the greatestexcitement prevailed in Galena, as it was rumored that others of theband would probably be present, scattered throughout the crowd, for thepurpose of rescuing their leader. 

In a flash Darrell understood his father's summons. He let the paperfall and, unmindful of his breakfast, gazed abstractedly out of thewindow. His thoughts had reverted to that scene in the sleeper on hisfirst trip west. He seemed to see it again in all its sickening detail, the face of the assassin standing out before him with such startlingdistinctness and realism that he involuntarily placed his hand over hiseyes to shut out the hateful sight. 

At Galena he was met by his father, who took a closed carriage to hishotel, conducting Darrell immediately to his own room, where he orderedlunch served for both. 

"Do you know why I have sent for you?" Mr. Britton inquired, as soon asthey were left alone together. 

"I had no idea when I started, " Darrell replied, "but on reading themorning paper, on my way over, I concluded you wanted me at that trialthis afternoon. "

"You are correct. Are you prepared to identify that face? Is yourrecollection of it as distinct as ever?"

"Yes; after reading of that bank robbery this morning, the whole affairin the car that night came back to me so vividly I could see the man'sface as clearly as any face on the train with me. "

"Good!" Mr. Britton ejaculated. 

"Do you think there is any likelihood of an attempt to rescue him, asstated by the paper?" Darrell inquired, rather incredulously. 

"If the leader of the band finds himself in need of help it will beforthcoming, " Mr. Britton answered, with peculiar emphasis. "Thecitizens are expecting trouble and have sworn in about a dozen extradeputy sheriffs, myself among the number. "

When lunch was over Mr. Britton ordered a carriage at once, and theyproceeded to the court-room. 

"What is your opinion of this man?" Darrell asked his father, while onthe way. "Would you have selected him as the murderer, from your studyof him?"

"I reserve my opinions until later, " Mr. Britton replied. "I want you toact from memory alone, unbiased by any outside influence. "

Arriving at the court-room, they found it already well filled. Darrellwas about to enter, but his father took him into a small anteroom, whilehe himself went to look for seats. He had a little difficulty in findingthe seats he wanted, which delayed them so that proceedings had begun ashe and Darrell entered from a side door and took their places in ratheran obscure part of the room. 

"You will have a good view here, " Mr. Britton said to Darrell, as theyseated themselves, "and there is little likelihood of your beingrecognized from this point. "

"There is little probability of the man's recognizing me, even if he ishere, " Darrell replied, "for he did not give me a second thought thatnight, and if he had, I am so changed he would not know me. "

"We cannot be too cautious, " his father answered. 

In a few moments the prisoner was brought in, and there was a generalcraning of necks to see him, a number of men in Darrell's vicinitystanding and thus obstructing his view. 

"Wait, " said his father, as he was about to rise with the others; "don'tmake yourself conspicuous; when the man is called for examination youwill have an excellent view from here. "

Curiosity gradually subsided, and the men sank back into their seats asproceedings went on. Then the prisoner was called and stood up forexamination. Darrell drew a quick breath and leaned eagerly forward. Theman was of medium height and size, but his movements seemed heavy andclumsy, whereas Darrell had been impressed by a litheness and agility inthe movements of the other. 

He stood facing his interlocutor, affording Darrell a three-quarter viewof his face, but soon he turned in Darrell's direction, scanning thecrowd slowly, as though in search of some one. 

Darrell saw a squarely built, colorless face, surmounted by a shock ofcoarse, straight black hair, with heavy, repulsive features, and small, bullet-shaped, leaden eyes of rather light blue. The face was so utterlyunlike what he had expected to see that he sank back into his seat witha smothered exclamation of disgust. His father, watching closely, smiled, seeming rather pleased than otherwise, but Darrell was halfindignant. 

"The idea of a lout like that being taken for the leader!" he exclaimed. "He is nothing but a tool, and a pretty clumsy one at that. "

Notwithstanding his vexation, Darrell continued to watch theproceedings, and in a few moments began to grow interested, not so muchin the examination as in the conduct of the prisoner. The latterevidently had found the face for which he was looking, for his eyesseemed glued to a certain spot. Occasionally he would shift them for amoment, but invariably, with each new interrogatory, they would turn tothat particular spot, as the needle to the pole, not through anyvolition of his own, but drawn by some influence against which he wastemporarily powerless. 

"That man is under a spell; he is being worked by some one in thecrowd, " Darrell exclaimed to his father, in a low tone. 

"Yes, and by some one not very far from us; I have spotted him, see ifyou cannot. "

Following the direction of the man's glance, Darrell began to scan thefaces of the crowd. Suddenly his pulses gave a bound. Seated at a littledistance and partially facing them was a man of the same size and heightas the prisoner, but whose every move and poise suggested alertness. Hewas leaning his arms on the back of the seat before him; his head waslowered so that his chin rested lightly on one hand, while the otherhand played nervously with the seat on which he leaned. His wholeattitude was that of a wild beast crouched, ready to spring upon hisprey. He had an oval face, with deep olive skin, wavy black hair, cutclose except where it curled low over his forehead, and through thehalf-closed eyes, fixed upon the prisoner's face, Darrell caught aglint like that of burnished steel. For an instant Darrell gazed likeone fascinated; he had not expected such an exact reproduction of theface as he had seen it on that night. His father touched him lightly; henodded significantly in reply. 

"There is your man!" he exclaimed. 

"You are sure? You could swear to it?" queried his father. 

"Swear to it? Yes. I would have known him anywhere, but sitting there, watching that man, his face is precisely as I saw it that night. Wait amoment, look!"

The man in his agitation at some word of the prisoner's, raised one handand brushed his forehead with a nervous gesture, which lifted his hairslightly, disclosing one end of a scar. 

"Did you see that scar?" Darrell questioned, eagerly. "You will find italmost crescent shaped, rather jagged, and nearly three inches inlength. "

"That is all I wanted, " his father replied. "I have the warrant for hisarrest with me, and the examination is so nearly over I shall serve itat once. "

"Can I help you?" Darrell asked, as his father moved away. 

"No; stay where you are; don't let him see you until after he is underarrest. "

The examination of the prisoner had just ended when Mr. Britton, accompanied by two deputies, re-entered the court-room. The man stillmaintained his crouching attitude, intently watching proceedings. Mr. Britton approached from the rear. Seizing the man suddenly by the arms, he pinioned him so that for an instant he was unable to move, and one ofthe deputies, leaning over, snapped the handcuffs on him before hefairly realized what had happened. Then, with a swift movement, Mr. Britton raised him to his feet and lifted him quickly out into theaisle, while his voice rang authoritatively through the court-room, --

"José Martinez, alias Walcott, I arrest you in the name of the State!"

The man shouted something in Spanish, evidently a signal, for it wasrepeated in different parts of the room. Instantly all was confusion. Ashot fired from the rear wounded one of the deputies; a man seated nearDarrell drew a revolver, but before he could level it Darrell knocked itfrom his hand and felled him to the floor. The officers rushed to thespot, and as the outbreak subsided Mr. Britton brought forward hisprisoner. 

A murmur of consternation rose throughout the room, for Walcott had beenknown years before among the business men of Galena, and there were nota few citizens present who had known him as Mr. Underwood's partner. Walcott, taking advantage of the situation, began to protest hisinnocence. Mr. Britton, unmoved, at once beckoned Darrell to his side. Upon seeing him Walcott's face took on a ghastly hue and he seemed for amoment on the verge of collapse, but he quickly pulled himself together, regarding Darrell meanwhile with a venomous malignity seldom seen on ahuman face. Not the least surprised man in the crowd was Darrellhimself. 

"Do you mean to say, " he asked his father, "that this is the Walcott ofwhose villany you have been writing me, and that he and the murderer ofHarry Whitcomb are one and the same?"

"So it seems, " Mr. Britton replied; "but that is no more than I havesuspected all along. "

"Now I understand your fear of my being recognized; it seemedinexplicable to me, " said Darrell. 

"If he had seen you, " his father replied, "he would have suspected yourerrand here at once. "

Incredulity was apparent on many faces as Walcott's examination wasbegun. He was morose and silent, and nothing could be elicited from him. When Darrell was called upon, however, and gave his evidence, incredulity gave place to conviction. As he completed his testimony witha description of the scar, which, upon examination, was found correct, the crowd became angry and threats of lynching and personal violencewere heard on various sides. The judge therefore ordered that theprisoners be removed from the court-room to the jail before any in theaudience had left their places. 

In charge of the regular sheriff and four or five deputies the prisonerswere led from the court-room. They had but just reached the street, however, when those inside heard shots fired in quick succession, followed by angry cries and shouts for help. The crowd surged to thedoors, to see the officers surrounded by a band of the outlaws who hadbeen lying in wait for their appearance, having been summoned by thesignal given on the arrest of the leader. With the help of the citizensthe fight was soon terminated, but when the mêlée was over it wasdiscovered that the sheriff had been killed, a number of citizens andoutlaws wounded, and Martinez, alias Walcott, had escaped. 

_Chapter XXXVIII_

WITHIN THE "POCKET"

The remainder of that day and the following night were spent infruitless efforts to determine the whereabouts of the fugitive. Telegrams were sent along the various railway lines into every part ofthe State; messengers were despatched to neighboring towns and camps, but all in vain. For the first thirty-six hours it seemed as though theearth must have opened and swallowed him up; there was not even a clueas to the direction in which he had gone. 

The second morning after his disappearance reports began to come in froma dozen different quarters of as many different men, all answering thedescription given of the fugitive, who had been identified as thecriminal. Four or five posses, averaging a dozen men each, all armed, set forth in various directions to follow the clews which seemed mostworthy of credence. For the next few days reports were constantlyreceived from one posse or another, to the effect that they were on theright trail, the fugitive had been seen only the preceding night at aminers' cabin where he had forced two men at the point of a revolver tosurrender their supper of pork and beans; or some lonely ranchman andhis wife had entertained him at dinner the day before. He was alwaysreported as only about ten hours ahead, footsore and weary, but at theend of ten days they returned, disorganized, dilapidated, and disgusted, without even having had a sight of their man. 

Other bands were sent out with instructions to separate into squads ofthree or four and search the ground thoroughly. Some of them were moresuccessful, in that they did, occasionally, get sight of the fugitive, but always under circumstances disadvantageous to themselves. Three ofthem stood one day talking with a rancher, who only two hours before hadfurnished the man, under protest, with a hearty dinner and a fine rifle. The rancher pointed out the direction in which he had gone, over a rockyroad leading down a steep, rough ravine; as he did so, his guestappeared on the other side of the ravine, within good rifle range. Amutual recognition followed; the men started to raise their rifles, butthe other was too quick for them. Covering them with the rifle which hecarried, he walked backward a distance of about forty yards and then, with a mocking salute, disappeared. Bloodhounds were next employed, butthe man swam and waded streams and doubled back on his own trail tillmen and dogs were alike baffled. This continued for about two months;then all reports regarding the man ceased; nothing was heard of him, itwas surmised that he had reached the "Pocket, " and all efforts atfurther search were for the time abandoned. 

Of all those concerned in the efforts for his capture there was not onemore thoroughly disgusted with the outcome than Mr. Britton. For monthshe had had this man under surveillance, convinced that he was a criminaland planning to bring about his capture. Through his own efforts he hadbeen identified, and by his coolness and presence of mind he hadaccomplished his arrest when nine out of ten others would have failed, and all seemed now to have been effort thrown away. He regretted theman's escape the more especially as he felt that his own life, as wellas that of his son, was endangered so long as he was at liberty. 

About a month after the search was abandoned Mr. Britton was one daysurprised by a call from the wife of Martinez. He had not seen her sincehis one interview with her months before. 

He was sitting in Mr. Underwood's office, looking over the books broughtin for his inspection, when she entered, alone and unannounced. 

She seated herself in the chair indicated by Mr. Britton and proceededat once to the object of her visit. 

"Señor, you told me when I last saw you that my secret would one daycome out. You were right; it has. It is my secret no longer and JoséMartinez fears me no longer. You have been kind to me. You saved hislife once; you fed me when I was hungry and asked no return. I will showyou I do not forget. Señor, there is twenty-five thousand dollars rewardfor that man. The officers will never find him; but I will take you tohim, the reward is then yours, and justice overtakes José Martinez, asyou said it would. Do you accept?"

"Do you know where he is?" Mr. Britton queried, somewhat surprised bythe woman's proposition. 

"Yes, Señor; I have just come from there. "

"He is in the Pocket, is he not?"

"Yes, Señor, but neither you nor your men could find the Pocket withouta guide. I know it well; I have lived there. "

"What is your proposition?" Mr. Britton inquired, after a brief silence;"how do you propose to do this?"

"I will start to-morrow for the Pocket. You come with me and bring thedogs. I will take you to a cabin where you can stay over night while Igo on alone to the Pocket to see that all is right. I will leave you myveil for a scent. The next morning you will set the dogs on my trailand follow them till you come to a certain place I will tell you of. From there you will see me; I will watch for you and give you the signalthat all is right. The dogs will bring you to the Pocket in half anhour. The rest will be easy work, Señor, I promise you. "

"But isn't the place constantly guarded?"

"Not now, Señor; the men have gone away on another expedition, but Josédoes not dare go out with them at present. Only one man is there besideJosé; I know him well; he will be asleep when you come. "

"I shall need men with me to help in bringing him back, " said Mr. Britton. 

"Bring them, but I think he will give you little trouble, Señor. "

As Mr. Britton cared nothing for the reward himself, he chose five mento accompany him to whom he thought the money would be particularlyacceptable, and the following morning, with two blood-hounds, theystarted forth in three separate detachments to attract as littleattention as possible. The first part of their journey was by rail, themen taking the same train as the woman herself. On their arrival at thelittle station which she had designated, conveyances, for which Mr. Britton had privately wired a personal friend living in that vicinity, were waiting to take them to their next stopping-place. 

They reached the cabin of which the woman had spoken, late in theafternoon. Here they picketed their horses and prepared to stay overnight, while she went on to the Pocket. Before leaving she gave Mr. Britton the lace scarf which she wore about her head. 

"I shall not go in there until night, " she said; "then I can watch andfind if all is right. You start early to-morrow morning on foot. Set thedogs on my trail and follow them to the fork; then turn to the left andfollow them till you come to a small tree standing in the trail, onwhich I will tie this handkerchief. Straight ahead of you you will seethe entrance to the Pocket. Wait by the tree till you see my signal. Ifeverything is right I will wave a white signal. If I wave a blacksignal, wait till you see the white one, or till I come to you. "

Early the next morning Mr. Britton and his men set forth with the houndsin leash, leaving the horses in charge of their drivers. The dogs tookthe scent at once and started up the trail, the men following. Theyfound it no easy task they had undertaken; the trail was rough and steepand in many places so narrow they were forced to go in single file. Someof the men, in order to be prepared for emergencies, were heavily armed, and progress was necessarily slow, but at last the fork was passed, andthen the time seemed comparatively short ere a small tree confrontedthem, a white handkerchief fluttering among its branches. 

They paused and drew back the hounds, then looked about them. Less thanten feet ahead the trail ended. The rocks looked as though they had beencut in two, the half on which they were standing falling perpendicularlya distance of some eighty feet, while across a rocky ravine some fortyfeet in width, the other half rose, an almost perpendicular wall eightyor ninety feet in height. In this massive wall of rock there was oneopening visible, resembling a gateway, and while the men speculated asto what it might be, the woman appeared, waving a white handkerchief, and they knew it to be the entrance to the Pocket. 

"She evidently expects us to come over there, " said one of the men, "butblamed if I can see a trail wide enough for a cat!"

"Send the dogs ahead!" ordered Mr. Britton. 

The dogs on taking the scent plunged downward through the brush on oneside, bringing them out into a narrow trail leading down and across theravine. Just above, on the other side, they could see the woman watchingtheir every move. 

"I've always heard, " said one of the men, "there was no getting intothis place without you had a special invitation, and it looks like it. Just imagine one of those fellows up there with a gun! Holy Moses! he'dhold the place against all the men the State, or the United States, forthat matter, could send down here!"

The ascent of the other side was difficult, but the men put forth theirbest efforts, and ere they were aware found themselves before thegateway in the rocks, where the woman still awaited them. She silentlybeckoned them to enter. 

Emerging from a narrow pass some six feet in length, they foundthemselves in a circular basin, about two hundred feet in diameter, surrounded by perpendicular walls of rock from one hundred to fivehundred feet in height. The bottom of the basin was level as a floor andcovered with a luxuriant growth of grass, while in the centre a smalllake, clear as crystal, reflecting the blue sky which seemed to riselike a dome from the rocky walls, gleamed like a sapphire in thesunlight. Sheer and dark the walls rose on all sides, but at one end ofthe basin, where the rocks were more rough and jagged, a silver streamfell in glistening cascades to the bottom, where it disappeared amongthe rocks. 

For a moment the men, lost in admiration of the scene, forgot that theywere in the den of a notorious band of outlaws, but a second glancerecalled them to the situation, for on all sides of the basin werecaves leading into the walls of rock, and evidently used as dwellings. 

To one of these the woman now led the way. At the entrance a man lay onthe ground, his heavy stertorous breathing proclaiming him a victim ofsome sleeping potion. The woman regarded him with a smile of amusement. 

"I made him sleep, Señor, " she said, addressing Mr. Britton, "so he willnot trouble you. "

Still leading the way into the farther part of the cave, she came to alow couch of skins at the foot of which she paused. Pointing to thefigure outlined upon it, she said, calmly, --

"He sleeps also, Señor, but sound; so sound you will need have no fearof waking him!"

Her words aroused a strange suspicion in Mr. Britton's mind. The lightwas so dim he could not see the sleeper, but a lantern, burning low, hung on the wall above his head. Seizing the lantern, he turned on thelight, holding it so it would strike the face of the sleeper. It was theface of José Martinez, but the features were drawn and ghastly. He bentlower, listening for his breath, but no sound came; he laid his handupon his heart, but it was still. 

Raising himself quickly, he threw the rays of the lantern full upon thewoman standing before him, a small crucifix clasped in her hands. Underhis searching gaze her face grew pale and ghastly as that upon thecouch. 

"You have killed him!" he said, slowly, with terrible emphasis. 

She made the sign of the cross. "Holy Mother, forgive!" she muttered;then, though she still quailed beneath his look, she exclaimed, halfdefiantly, "I have not wronged you; you have your reward, and justicehas overtaken him, as you said it would!"

"That is not justice, " said Mr. Britton, pointing to the couch; "it ismurder, and you are his murderer. You should have let the law take itscourse. "

"The law!" she laughed, mockingly; "would your law avenge my father'sdeath, or the wrongs I have suffered? No! My father had no son to avengehim, I had no brother, but I have avenged him and myself. I havefollowed him all these years, waiting till the right time should come, waiting for this, dreaming of it night and day! I have had my revenge, and it was sweet! I did not kill him in his sleep, Señor; I wakened him, just to let him know he was in my power, just to hear him plead formercy----"

"Hush!" said Mr. Britton, firmly, for the woman seemed to have gone mad. "You do not know what you are saying. You must get ready to return withme. "

She grew calm at once and her face lighted with a strange smile. 

"I am ready to go with you, Señor, " she said, at the same time claspingthe crucifix suddenly to her breast. 

With the last word she fell to the ground and a slight tremor shook herframe for an instant. Quickly Mr. Britton lifted her and bore her to thelight, but life was already extinct. Within her clasped hands, underneath the crucifix, they found the little poisoned stiletto. 

_Chapter XXXIX_

AT THE TIME APPOINTED

For a year and a half Darrell worked uninterruptedly at Ophir, hisconstantly increasing commissions from eastern States testifying to hismarked ability as a mining expert. 

Notwithstanding the incessant demands upon his time, he still adhered tohis old rule, reserving a few hours out of each twenty-four, which hedevoted to scientific or literary study, as his mood impelled. He soonfound himself again drawn irresistibly towards the story begun duringhis stay at the Hermitage, but temporarily laid aside on his returneast. He carefully reviewed the synopsis, which he had written indetail, and as he did, he felt himself entering into the spirit of thestory till it seemed once more part of his own existence. He revised thework already done, eliminating, adding, making the outlines clearer, more defined; then, with steady, unfaltering hand, carried the workforward to completion. 

Eighteen months after his re-establishment at Ophir he was commissionedto go to Alaska to examine certain mining properties in a deal involvingover a million dollars, and, anxious to be on the ground as early aspossible, he took the first boat north that season. His story waspublished on the eve of his departure. He received a few copies, whichhe regarded with a half-fond, half-whimsical air. One he sent to KateUnderwood, having first written his initials on the fly-leaf underneaththe brief petition, "Be merciful. " He then went his way, his time andattention wholly occupied by his work, with little thought as to whetherthe newly launched craft was destined to ride the waves of popularity orbe engulfed beneath the waters of oblivion. 

Months of constant travel, of hard work and rough fare, followed. Hisreport on the mines was satisfactory, the deal was consummated, and hereceived a handsome percentage, but not content with this, determined tofamiliarize himself with the general situation in that country and theconditions obtaining, he pushed on into the interior, pursuing hisexplorations till the return of the cold season. Touching at BritishColumbia on his way home and finding tempting inducements there in theway of mining properties, he stopped to investigate, and remained duringthe winter and spring months. 

It was therefore not until the following June that he found himselfreally homeward bound and once more within the mountain ranges guardingthe approach to the busy little town of Ophir. 

He had been gone considerably over a year; he had accumulated a vastamount of information invaluable for future work along his line, and hehad succeeded financially beyond his anticipations. Occasionally duringhis absence, in papers picked up here and there, he had seen favorablemention of his story, from which he inferred that his first venture inthe realms of fiction had not been quite a failure, and in this opinionhe was confirmed by a letter just received from his publishers, whichhad followed him for months. But all thought of these things was for thetime forgotten in an almost boyish delight that he was at last on hisway home. 

As he came within sight of the familiar ranges his thoughts revertedagain and again to Kate Underwood. His whole soul seemed to cry out forher with a sudden, insatiable longing. His mail had of necessity beenirregular and infrequent; their letters had somehow miscarried, and hehad not heard directly from her for months. Her last letter was fromGermany; she was then still engrossed in her music, but her father'shealth was greatly improved and he was beginning to talk of home. Hisfather's latest letter had stated that the Underwoods would probablyreturn early in July. And this was June! Darrell felt a twinge ofdisappointment. He was now able to remember many incidents in theiracquaintance. He recalled their first meeting at The Pines on that Juneday five years ago. How beautiful the old place must look now! Butwithout Kate's presence the charm would be lost for him. He regretted hehad started homeward quite so soon; the time would not have seemed solong among the mining camps of the great Northwest as here, whereeverything reminded him of her. 

The stopping of the train at a health resort far up among the mountains, a few miles from Ophir, roused Darrell from his revery. With a sigh herecalled his wandering thoughts and left the car for a walk up and downthe platform. The town, perched saucily on the slopes of a heavilytimbered mountain, looked very attractive in the gathering twilight. Though early in the season, the hotel and sanitarium seemed well filled, while numerous pleasure-seekers were promenading the walks leading toand from the springs which gave the place its popularity. 

Darrell felt a sudden, unaccountable desire to remain. Without waitingto analyze the impulse, as inexplicable as it was irresistible, whichactuated him, he hastened into the sleeper and secured his grip and topcoat. As the train pulled out he stepped into the station and sent amessage to his father at Ophir, stating that he had decided to remainover a day or two at the Springs and asking him to look after hisbaggage on its arrival. He then took a carriage for the hotel. It wasnot without some compunctions of conscience that Darrell wired hisfather of his decision, and even as he rode swiftly along the windingstreets he wondered what strange fancy possessed him that he should stopamong strangers instead of continuing his journey home. To his father itwould certainly seem unaccountable, as it did now to himself. 

Mr. Britton, however, on receiving his son's message, could not restraina smile, for only the preceding day he had received a telegram from KateUnderwood, at the same place, in which she stated that they had startedhome earlier than at first intended, and as her father was somewhatfatigued by their long journey, they had decided to stop for two orthree days' rest at the Springs. 

Darrell arrived at the hotel at a late hour for dinner; the dining-roomwas therefore nearly deserted when he took his place at the table. Dinner over, he went out for a stroll, and, glad to be alone with histhoughts, walked up and down the entire length of the little town. Hismind was constantly on Kate. Again and again he seemed to see her, as heloved best to recall her, standing on the summit of the "Divide, " herwind-tossed hair blown about her brow, her eyes shining, as shepredicted their reunion and perfect love. Over and over he seemed tohear her words, and his heart burned with desire for their fulfilment. He had waited patiently, he had shown what he could achieve, how hecould win, but all achievements, all victories, were worthless withouther love and presence. 

The moon was just rising as he returned to the hotel, but it was stillearly. His decision was taken; he would go to Ophir by the morningtrain, learn Kate's whereabouts from his father, and go to meet her andaccompany her home. He had chosen a path leading through a secludedportion of the grounds, and as he approached the hotel his attention wasarrested by some one singing. Glancing in the direction whence the songcame, he saw one of the private parlors brightly lighted, the long, lowwindow open upon the veranda. Something in the song held him entranced, spell-bound. The voice was incomparably rich, possessing wonderful rangeand power of expression, but this alone was not what especially appealedto him. Through all and underlying all was a quality so strangely, sweetly familiar, which thrilled his soul to its very depths, whetherwith joy or pain he could not have told; it seemed akin to both. 

Still held as by a spell, he drew nearer the window, until he heard theclosing words of the refrain, --words which had been ringing with strangepersistency in his mind for the last two or three hours, --

 "Some time, some time, and that will be God's own good time for you and me. "

His heart leaped wildly. With a bound, swift and noiseless, he was onthe veranda, just as the singer, with tender, lingering emphasis, repeated the words so low as to be barely audible to Darrell standingbefore the open window. But even while he listened he gazed inastonishment at the singer; could that magnificent woman be hisgirl-love? She was superbly formed, splendidly proportioned; the rich, warm blood glowed in her cheeks, and her hair gleamed in the light likespun gold. He stood motionless; he would not retreat, he dared notadvance. 

As the last words of the song died away, a slight sound caused thesinger to turn, facing him, and their eyes met. That was enough; in thatone glance the memory of his love returned to him like an overwhelmingflood. She was no longer his Dream-Love, but a splendid, living reality, only more beautiful than his dreams or his imagination had portrayedher. 

He stretched out his arms towards her with the one word, "Kathie!"

She had already risen, a great, unspeakable joy illumining her face, butat the sound of that name, vibrating with the pent-up emotion, theconcentrated love of all the years of their separation, she came swiftlyforward, her bosom palpitating, her eyes shining with the love calledforth by his cry. He stepped through the low window, within the room. Inan instant his arms were clasped about her, and, holding her close tohis breast, his dark eyes told her more eloquently than words of hisheart's hunger for her, while in her eyes and in the blushes runningriot in her cheeks he read his welcome. 

He kissed her hair and brow, with a sort of reverence; then, hearingvoices in the corridor and rooms adjoining, he seized a light wrap froma chair near by and threw it about her shoulders. 

"Come outside, sweetheart, " he whispered, and drawing her arm within hisown led her out onto the veranda and down the path along which he hadjust come. In the first transport of their joy they were silent, eachalmost fearing to break the spell which seemed laid upon them. The moonhad risen, transforming the sombre scene to one of beauty, but to themLove's radiance had suddenly made the world inexpressibly fair; the veryflowers as they passed breathed perfume like incense in their path, andthe trees whispered benedictions upon them. 

Darrell first broke the silence. "I would have been in Ophir to-night, but some mysterious, irresistible impulse led me to stop here. Did youweave a spell about me, you sweet sorceress?" he asked, gazing tenderlyinto her face. 

"I think it must have been some higher influence than mine, " shereplied, with sweet gravity, "for I was also under the spell. I supposedyou many miles away, yet, as I sang to-night, it seemed as though youwere close to me, as though if I turned I should see you--just as Idid, " she concluded, with a radiant smile. "But how did you find me?"

"How does the night-bird find its mate?" he queried, in low, vibranttones; then, as her color deepened, he continued, with passionateearnestness, --

"I was here, where we are now, my very soul crying out for you, when Iheard your song. It thrilled me; I felt as though waking from a dream, but I knew my love was near. Down through the years I heard her soulcalling mine; following that call, I found my love, and listening, heardthe very words which my own heart had been repeating over and over toitself, alone and in the darkness. "

Almost unconsciously they had stopped at a turn in the path. Darrellpaused a moment, for tears were trembling on the golden lashes. Drawingher closer, he whispered, --

"Kathie, do you remember our parting on the 'Divide'?"

"Do you think I ever could forget?" she asked. 

"You predicted we would one day stand reunited on the heights of suchlove as we had not dreamed of then. I asked you when that day would be;do you remember your answer?"

"I do. "

He continued, in impassioned tones: "Are not the conditions fulfilled, sweetheart? My love for you then was as a dream, a myth, compared withthat I bring you to-day, and looking in your eyes I need no words totell me that your love has broadened and deepened with the years. Kathie, is not this 'the time appointed'?"

"It must be, " she replied; "there could be none other like this!"

Holding her head against his breast and raising her face to his, hesaid, "You gave me your heart that day, Kathie, to hold in trust. I havebeen faithful to that trust through all these years; do you give it menow for my very own?"

"Yes, " she answered, slowly, with sweet solemnity; "to have and to hold, forever!"

He sealed the promise with a long, rapturous kiss; but what followed, the broken, disjointed phrases, the mutual pledges, the tokens of lovegiven and received, are all among the secrets which the mountains nevertold. 

As they retraced their steps towards the hotel, Darrell said, "We havewaited long, sweetheart. "

"Yes, but the waiting has brought us good of itself, " she answered. "Think of all you have accomplished, --I know better than you think, foryour father has kept me posted, --and better yet, what these years havefitted you for accomplishing in the future! To me, that was the bestpart of your work in your story. It was strong and cleverly told, butwhat pleased me most was the evidence that it was but the beginning, thepromise of something better yet to come. "

"If only I could persuade all critics to see it through your eyes!"Darrell replied, with a smile. 

"Do you wish to know, " she asked, with sudden seriousness, "what willalways remain to me the noblest, most heroic act of your life?"

"Most assuredly I do, " he answered, her own gravity checking thelaughing reply which rose to his lips. 

"The fight you made and won alone in the mountains the day that yourenounced our love for honor's sake. I can see now that the stand youtook and maintained so nobly formed the turning-point in both our lives. I did not look at it then as you did. I would have married you then andthere and gone with you to the ends of the earth rather than sacrificeyour love, but you upheld my honor with your own. You fought againstheavy odds, and won, and to me no other victory will compare with it, since--

 'greater they who on life's battle-field With unseen foes and fierce temptations fight. '"

Darrell silently drew her nearer himself, feeling that even in thisforetaste of joy he had received ample compensation for the past. 

A few days later there was a quiet wedding at the Springs. The beautifulchurch on the mountain-side had been decorated for the occasion, and atan early hour, while yet the robins were singing their matins, thelittle wedding-party gathered about the altar where John Darrell Brittonand Kate Underwood plighted their troth for life. Above the jubilantbird-songs, above the low, subdued tones of the organ, the words of thegrand old marriage service rang out with impressiveness. 

Besides the rector and his wife, there were present only Mr. Underwood, Mrs. Dean, and Mr. Britton. It had been Kate's wish, with which Darrellhad gladly coincided, thus to be quietly married, surrounded only bytheir immediate relatives. 

"Let our wedding be a fit consummation of our betrothal, " she had saidto him, "without publicity, unhampered by conventionalities, so it willalways seem the sweeter and more sacred. "

That evening found them all at The Pines, assembled on the verandawatching the sunset, the old home seeming wonderfully restful andpeaceful to the returned travellers. 

The years which had come and gone since Darrell first came to the Pinestold heaviest on Mr. Underwood. His hair was nearly white and he hadaged in many ways, appearing older than Mr. Britton, who wasconsiderably his senior; but age had brought its compensations, for thestern, immobile face had softened and the deep-set eyes glowed with akindly, beneficent light. Mr. Britton's hair was well silvered, but hisface bore evidence of the great joy which had come into his life, and ashis eyes rested upon his son he seemed to live anew in that gloriousyoung life. To Mrs. Dean the years had brought only a few silver threadsin the brown hair and an added serenity to the placid, unfurrowed brow. Calm and undemonstrative as ever, but with a smile of deep content, shesat in her accustomed place, her knitting-needles flashing and clickingwith their old-time regularity. Duke, who had been left in Mr. Britton'scare during Darren's absence, occupied his old place on the top stair, but even his five years of added dignity could not restrain him fromoccasional demonstrations of joy at finding himself again at The Pinesand with his beloved master and mistress. 

As the twilight began to deepen Kate suggested that they go inside, andled the way, not to the family sitting-room, but to a spacious room onthe eastern side, a room which had originally been intended as alibrary, but never furnished as such. It was beautifully decorated withpalms and flowers, while the fireplace had been filled with light boughsof spruce and fir. 

As they entered the room, Kate, slipping her arm within Mr. Britton's, led him before the fireplace. 

"My dear father, " she said, "we have chosen this evening as the one mostappropriate for your formal installation in our family circle and ourhome. I say formal because you have really been one of ourselves foryears; you have shared our joys and our sorrows; we have had no secretsfrom you; but from this time we want you to take your place in our home, as you did long ago in our hearts. We have prepared this room for you, to be your _sanctum sanctorum_, and have placed in it a few littletokens of our love for you and gratitude to you, which we beg you toaccept as such. "

She bent towards the fireplace. "The hearthstone is ever an emblem ofhome. In lighting the fires upon this hearthstone, we dedicate it toyour use and christen this 'our father's room. '"

The flames burst upward as she finished speaking, sending a resinousfragrance into the air and revealing a room fitted with such lovingthought and care that nothing which could add to his comfort had beenomitted. Near the centre of the room stood a desk of solid oak, a giftfrom Mr. Underwood; beside it a reclining chair from Mrs. Dean, while onthe wall opposite, occupying nearly a third of that side of the room, was a superb painting of the Hermitage, --standing out in the firelightwith wonderful realism, perfect in its bold outlines and sombrecoloring, --the united gift of his son and daughter, which Darrell hadordered executed before his departure for Alaska. 

With loving congratulations the rest of the group gathered about Mr. Britton, who was nearly speechless with emotion. As Mr. Underwood wrunghis hand he exclaimed, with assumed gruffness, --

"Jack, old partner, you thought you'd got a monopoly on that boy ofyours, but I've got in on the deal at last!"

"You haven't got any the best of me, Dave, " Mr. Britton retorted, smiling through his tears, "for I've got a share now in the sweetestdaughter on earth!"

"Yes, papa, " Kate laughingly rejoined, "there are three of us Brittonsnow; the Underwoods are in the minority. "

Which, though a new view of the situation to that gentleman, seemedeminently satisfactory. 

Later, as Kate found Darrell at a window, looking thoughtfully out intothe moonlit night, she asked, --

"Of what are you thinking, John?"

"Of what the years have done for us, Kathie; of how much better fittedfor each other we are now than when we first loved. "

"Yes, " she whispered, as their eyes met, "'God's own good time' was thebest. "

THE END

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PRINCESS MARITZAA NOVEL OF RAPID ROMANCE. BY PERCY BREBNERWith Harrison Fisher Illustrations in Color. 

 Offers more real entertainment and keen enjoyment than any book since "Graustark. " Full of picturesque life and color and a delightful love-story. The scene of the story is Wallaria, one of those mythical kingdoms in Southern Europe. Maritza is the rightful heir to the throne, but is kept away from her own country. The hero is a young Englishman of noble family. It is a pleasing book of fiction. Large 12mo. Size. Handsomely bound in cloth. White coated wrapper, with Harrison Fisher portrait in colors. Price 75 cents, postpaid. 

 * * * * *

Books by George Barr McCutcheon

BREWSTER'S MILLIONS

Mr. Montgomery Brewster is required to spend a million dollars in oneyear in order to inherit seven millions. He must be absolutely pennilessat that time, and yet have spent the million in a way that will commendhim as fit to inherit the larger sum. How he does it forms the basis forone of the most crisp and breezy romances of recent years. 

CASTLE CRANEYCROW

The story revolves around the abduction of a young American woman andthe adventures created through her rescue. The title is taken from thename of an old castle on the Continent, the scene of her imprisonment. 

GRAUSTARK: A Story of a Love Behind a Throne. 

This work has been and is to-day one of the most popular works offiction of this decade. The meeting of the Princess of Graustark withthe hero, while travelling incognito in this country, his efforts tofind her, his success, the defeat of conspiracies to dethrone her, andtheir happy marriage, provide entertainment which every type of readerwill enjoy. 

THE SHERRODS. With illustrations by C. D. Williams

A novel quite unlike Mr. McCutcheon's previous works in the field ofromantic fiction and yet possessing the charm inseparable from anythinghe writes. The scene is laid in Indiana and the theme is best describedin the words, "Whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder. "

Each volume handsomely bound in cloth. Large 12mo. Size. Price 75 centsper volume, postpaid. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS52 DUANE STREET :: NEW YORK

_NEW POPULAR EDITIONS OF_MARY JOHNSTON'SNOVELS

TO HAVE AND TO HOLD

It was something new and startling to see an author's first novel sellup into the hundreds of thousands, as did this one. The ablest criticsspoke of it in such terms as "Breathless interest, " "The high water markof American fiction since Uncle Tom's Cabin, " "Surpasses all, " "Withouta rival, " "Tender and delicate, " "As good a story of adventure as onecan find, " "The best style of love story, clean, pure and wholesome. "

AUDREY

With the brilliant imagination and the splendid courage of youth, shehas stormed the very citadel of adventure. Indeed it would be impossibleto carry the romantic spirit any deeper into fiction. --_Agnes Repplier. _

PRISONERS OF HOPE

Pronounced by the critics classical, accurate, interesting, American, original, vigorous, full of movement and life, dramatic and fascinating, instinct with life and passion, and preserving throughout a singularlyeven level of excellence. 

Each volume handsomely bound in cloth. Large 12mo. Size. Price, 75cents per volume, postpaid. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS52 DUANE STREET :: NEW YORK

_GET THE BEST OUT-DOOR STORIES_

Stewart Edward White'sGreat Novels of Western Life. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP EDITIONS

THE BLAZED TRAIL

Mingles the romance of the forest with the romance of man's heart, making a story that is big and elemental, while not lacking in sweetnessand tenderness. It is an epic of the life of the lumbermen of the greatforest of the Northwest, permeated by out of door freshness, and theglory of the struggle with nature. 

THE SILENT PLACES

A powerful story of strenuous endeavor and fateful privation in thefrozen North, embodying also a detective story of much strength andskill. The author brings out with sure touch and deep understanding themystery and poetry of the still, frost-bound forest. 

THE CLAIM JUMPERS

A Tale of a Western mining camp and the making of a man, with which acharming young lady has much to do. The tenderfoot has a hard time ofit, but meets the situation, shows the stuff he is made of, and "winsout. "

THE WESTERNERS

A tale of the mining camp and the Indian country, full of color andthrilling incident. 

THE MAGIC FOREST: A Modern Fairy Story. 

"No better book could be put in a young boy's hands, " says the New York_Sun_. It is a happy blend of knowledge of wood life with anunderstanding of Indian character, as well as that of small boys. 

Each volume handsomely bound in cloth. Price, seventy-five cents pervolume, postpaid. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS52 DUANE STREET :: NEW YORK

_THE GROSSET & DUNLAP EDITIONS OF STANDARD WORKS_

A FULL AND COMPLETE EDITION OF TENNYSON'S POEMS. 

Containing all the Poems issued under the protection of copyright. Clothbound, small 8 vo. 882 pages, with index to first lines. Price, postpaid, seventy-five cents. The same, bound in three-quarter morocco, gilt top, $2. 50, postpaid. 

THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON AND HER TIMES, by Mrs. Roger A. Pryor. 

The brilliant social life of the time passes before the reader, packedfull of curious and delightful information. More kinds of interest enterinto it than into any other volume on Colonial Virginia. Sixtyillustrations. Price, seventy-five cents, postpaid. 

SHAKESPEARE'S ENGLAND, by William Winter

A record of rambles in England, relating largely to Warwickshire anddepicting not so much the England of fact, as the England created andhallowed by the spirit of her poetry, of which Shakespeare is the soul. Profusely illustrated. Price, seventy-five cents, postpaid. 

THEODORE ROOSEVELT THE CITIZEN, by Jacob A. Riis. 

Should be read by every man and boy in America. Because it sets forth anideal of American Citizenship. An Inspired Biography by one who knowshim best. A large, handsomely illustrated cloth bound book. Price, postpaid, seventy-five cents. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS52 DUANE STREET :: NEW YORK

_THE GROSSET AND DUNLAP SPECIAL EDITIONS OF POPULAR NOVELS THAT HAVEBEEN DRAMATIZED. _

BREWSTER'S MILLIONS: By George Barr McCutcheon. 

A clever, fascinating tale, with a striking and unusual plot. Withillustrations from the original New York production of the play. 

THE LITTLE MINISTER: By J. M. Barrie. 

With illustrations from the play as presented by Maude Adams, and avignette in gold of Miss Adams on the cover. 

CHECKERS: By Henry M. Blossom, Jr. 

A story of the Race Track. Illustrated with scenes from the play asoriginally presented in New York by Thomas W. Ross who created the stagecharacter. 

THE CHRISTIAN: By Hall Caine. THE ETERNAL CITY: By Hall Caine. 

Each has been elaborately and successfully staged. 

IN THE PALACE OF THE KING: By F. Marion Crawford. 

A love story of Old Madrid, with full page illustrations. Originallyplayed with great success by Viola Allen. 

JANICE MEREDITH: By Paul Leicester Ford. 

New edition with an especially attractive cover, a really handsome book. Originally played by Mary Mannering, who created the title role. 

These books are handsomely bound in cloth, are well-made in everyrespect, and aside from their unusual merit as stories, are particularlyinteresting to those who like things theatrical. Price, postpaid, seventy-five cents each. 

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS52 DUANE STREET :: NEW YORK