Theracewasabouthalfamileandreturn，thefirstandlastquartersbeingupontheice.Thecourse，afterleavingtheice，ledupfromtheriverbyalongeasyslopetothelevelabove;andatthefurtherendcurvedsomewhatsharplyroundtheOldFort.Theonlyconditionattachingtotheracewasthattheteamsshouldstartfromthescratch，maketheturnoftheFort，andfinishatthescratch.Therewerenovexingregulationsastofouls.Themanmakingthefoulwouldfinditnecessarytoreckonwiththecrowd，whichwasconsideredsufficientguaranteeforafairandsquarerace.Owingtothehazardsofthecourse，theresultwoulddependupontheskillofthedriversquiteasmuchasuponthespeedoftheteams.ThepointsofhazardwereattheturnroundtheOldFort，andatalittleravinewhichleddowntotheriver，overwhichtheroadpassedbymeansofalonglogbridgeorcauseway.
　　Fromapointuponthehighbankoftheriverthewholecourselayinopenview.Itwasascenefulloflifeandvividlypicturesque.
　　Therewereminersindarkclothesandpeakcaps;citizensinordinarygarb;ranchmeninwidecowboyhatsandbuckskinshirtsandleggings，somewithcartridge—beltsandpistols;afewhalf—breedsandIndiansinhalf—native，half—civiliseddress;andscatteringthroughthecrowdthelumbermenwithgayscarletandblueblanketcoats，andsomewithknittedtuquesofthesamecolours.Averygood—naturedbutextremelyuncertaincrowditwas.Attheheadofeachhorsestoodaman，butatthepintos’headsBaptistestoodalone，tryingtoholddowntheoffleader，thrownintoafrenzyoffearbytheyellingofthecrowd.
　　Graduallyallbecamequiet，till，inthemidstofabsolutestillness，camethewords，’Areyouready？’，thenthepistol—shotandthegreatracehadbegun.AbovetheroarofthecrowdcametheshrillcryofBaptiste，ashestruckhisbronchowiththepalmofhishand，andswunghimselfintothesleighbesideSandy，asitshotpast.
　　Likeaflashthebronchossprangtothefront，twolengthsbeforetheotherteams;but，terrifiedbytheyellingofthecrowd，insteadofbendingtotheleftbankupwhichtheroadwound，theywheeledtotherightandwerealmostacrosstheriverbeforeSandycouldswingthembackintothecourse.
　　Baptiste’scries，acuriousmixtureofFrenchandEnglish，continuedtostrikethroughallothersoundstilltheygainedthetopoftheslopetofindtheothersalmostahundredyardsinfront，thecitizens’teamleading，withtheminers’followingclose.Themomentthepintoscaughtsightoftheteamsbeforethemtheysetoffataterrificpaceandsteadilydevouredtheinterveningspace.Nearerandnearertheturncame，theeighthorsesinfront，runningstraightandwellwithintheirspeed.
　　Afterthemflewthepintos，runningsavagelywithearssetback，leadingwellthebigroans，thunderingalongandgainingateverybound.Andnowthecitizens’teamhadalmostreachedtheFort，runninghard，anddrawingawayfromthebays.ButNixonknewwhathewasabout，andwassimplysteadyinghisteamfortheturn.Theeventprovedhiswisdom，forintheturntheleadingteamleftthetrack，lostamomentortwointhedeepsnow，andbeforetheycouldregaintheroadthebayshadsweptsuperblypast，leavingtheirrivalstofollowintherear.Oncamethepintos，swiftlynearingtheFort.Surelyatthatpacetheycannotmaketheturn.ButSandyknowshisleaders.Theyhavetheireyesupontheteamsinfront，andneednotouchofrein.Withouttheslightestchangeinspeedthenimble—footedbronchosroundtheturn，haulingthebigroansafterthem，andfallinbehindthecitizens’team，whichisregainingsteadilythegroundlostintheturn.
　　Andnowthestruggleisforthebridgeovertheravine.Thebaysinfront，runningwithmouthswideopen，areevidentlydoingtheirbest;behindthem，andeverymomentnearingthem，butatthelimitoftheirspeedtoo，comethelighterandfleetercitizens’team;
　　whileoppositetheirdriverarethepintos，pullinghard，eagerandfresh.Theirtemperistoouncertaintosendthemtothefront;
　　theyrunwellfollowing，butwhenleadingcannotbetrusted，andbesides，abronchohatesabridge;soSandyholdsthemwheretheyare，waitingandhopingforhischanceafterthebridgeiscrossed.
　　Footbyfootthecitizens’teamcreepupupontheflankofthebays，withthepintosinturnhuggingthemclosely，tillitseemsasifthethree，ifnoneslackens，muststrikethebridgetogether;
　　andthiswillmeandestructiontooneatleast.ThisdangerSandyperceives，buthedarenotcheckhisleaders.Suddenly，withinafewyardsofthebridge，Baptistethrowshimselfuponthelines，wrenchesthemoutofSandy’shands，and，withaquickswing，facesthepintosdownthesteepsideoftheravine，whichisalmostsheericewithathincoatofsnow.Itisadaringcoursetotake，fortheravine，thoughnotdeep，isfullofundergrowth，andispartiallyclosedupbyabrushheapatthefurtherend.But，withayell，Baptistehurlshisfourhorsesdowntheslope，andintotheundergrowth.’Allons，mesenfants！Courage！vite，vite！’criestheirdriver，andnoblydothepintosrespond.Regardlessofbushesandbrushheaps，theyteartheirwaythrough;but，astheyemerge，thehindbob—sleighcatchesaroot，and，withacrash，thesleighishurledhighintheair.Baptiste’scriesringouthighandshrillasever，encouraginghisteam，andneverceasetill，withaplungeandascramble，theyclearthebrushheaplyingatthemouthoftheravine，andareoutontheiceontheriver，withBaptistestandingonthefrontbob，theboxtrailingbehind，andSandynowheretobeseen.
　　Threehundredyardsofthecourseremain.Thebays，perfectlyhandled，havegainedatthebridgeandinthedescenttotheice，andareleadingthecitizens’teambyhalfadozensleighlengths.
　　BehindbothcomesBaptiste.Itisnoworneverforthepintos.
　　Therattleofthetrailingbox，togetherwiththewildyellingofthecrowdrushingdownthebank，excitesthebronchostomadness，and，takingthebitsintheirteeth，theydotheirfirstfreerunningthatday.Pastthecitizens’teamlikeawhirlwindtheydash，cleartheinterveningspace，andgaintheflanksofthebays.
　　Canthebaysholdthem？Overthemleanstheirdriver，plyingforthefirsttimethehissinglash.Onlyfiftyyardsmore.Theminersbegintoyell.ButBaptiste，wavinghislineshighinonehandseizeshistuquewiththeother，whirlsitabouthisheadandflingsitwithafierceryellthaneveratthebronchos.Liketheburstingofahurricanethepintosleapforward，andwithasplendidrushcrossthescratch，winnersbytheirownlength.
　　Therewasawildquarterofanhour.Theshantymenhadtornofftheircoatsandwerewavingthemwildlyandtossingthemhigh，whiletheranchersaddedtotheuproarbyemptyingtheirrevolversintotheairinawaythatmadeonenervous.
　　WhenthecrowdwassomewhatquietedSandy’sstifffigureappeared，slowlymakingtowardsthem.Adozenlumbermenrantohim，eagerlyinquiringifhewerehurt.ButSandycouldonlycursethelittleFrenchmanforlosingtherace.
　　’Lost！Why，man，we’vewonit！’shoutedavoice，atwhichSandy’sragevanished，andheallowedhimselftobecarriedinupontheshouldersofhisadmirers.
　　’Where’sthelad？’washisfirstquestion.
　　Thebronchosareoffwithhim.He’sdownattherapidslikeenough.’
　　’Letmego，’shoutedSandy，settingoffataruninthetrackofthesleigh.HehadnotgonefarbeforehemetBaptistecomingbackwithhisteamfoaming，theroansgoingquietly，butthebronchosdancing，andeagertobeatitagain.
　　’Voila！bullyboy！tankthebonDieu，Sandy;younotkeel，heh？
　　Ah！youareonegrandchevalier，’exclaimedBaptiste，haulingSandyinandthrustingthelinesintohishands.Andsotheycameback，thesleighboxstilldraggingbehind，thepintosexecutingfantasticfiguresontheirhindlegs，andSandyholdingthemdown.
　　ThelittleFrenchmanstruckadramaticattitudeandcalledout——
　　’Voila！What’sthematterwizSandy，heh？’
　　Theroarthatansweredsetthebronchosoffagainplungingandkicking，andonlywhenBaptistegotthembytheheadscouldtheybeinducedtostandlongenoughtoallowSandytobeproclaimedwinneroftherace.SeveralofthelumbermensprangintothesleighboxwithSandyandBaptiste，amongthemKeefe，followedbyNelson，andthefirstpartofthegreatdaywasover.Slavincouldnotunderstandtheneworderofthings.Thatagreateventlikethefour—horseraceshouldnotbefollowedby’drinksallround’wastohimatoncedisgustingandincomprehensible;and，realisinghisdefeatforthemoment，hefellintothecrowdanddisappeared.Butheleftbehindhimhis’runners.’Hehadnotyetthrownupthegame.
　　Mr.Craigmeantimecametome，and，lookinganxiouslyafterSandyinhissleigh，withhisfranticcrowdofyellingadmirers，saidinagloomyvoice，’PoorSandy！Heiseasilycaught，andKeefehasthedevil’scunning.’
　　’Hewon’ttouchSlavin’swhiskyto—day，’Iansweredconfidently.
　　’There’llbetwentybottleswaitinghiminthestable，’herepliedbitterly，’andIcan’tgofollowinghimup.’
　　’Hewon’tstandthat，nomanwould.Godhelpusall.’Icouldhardlyrecognisemyself，forIfoundinmyheartanearnestechotothatprayerasIwatchedhimgotowardthecrowdagain，hisfacesetinstrongdetermination.Helookedlikethecaptainofaforlornhope，andIwasproudtobefollowinghim.
　　CHAPTERIII
　　WATERLOO.OURFIGHT——HISVICTORY
　　Thesportswereover，andthereremainedstillanhourtobefilledinbeforedinner.ItwasanhourfullofdangertoCraig’shopesofvictory，forthemenwerewildwithexcitement，andreadyforthemostrecklessmeansof’slingingtheirdust.’IcouldnotbutadmiretheskillwithwhichMr.Craigcaughttheirattention.
　　’Gentlemen，’hecalledout，’we’veforgottenthejudgeofthegreatrace.ThreecheersforMr.Connor！’
　　Twooftheshantymenpickedmeupandhoistedmeontheirshoulderswhilethecheersweregiven.
　　’AnnouncethePunchandJudy，’heentreatedme，inalowvoice.I
　　didsoinalittlespeech，andwasforthwithbornealoft，throughthestreettothebooth，followedbythewholecrowd，cheeringlikemad.
　　Theexcitementofthecrowdcaughtme，andforanhourIsqueakedandworkedthewiresoftheimmortalandunhappyfamilyinamannerhithertounapproachedbymeatleast.IwasgladenoughwhenGraemecametotellmetosendthemenintodinner.ThisMr.
　　Punchdidinthemostgraciousmanner，andagainwithcheersforPunch’smastertheytroopedtumultuouslyintothetent.
　　WehadonlywellbegunwhenBaptistecameinquietlybuthurriedlyandwhisperedtome——
　　’M’sieuCraig，he’sgonetoSlavin’s，andwouldlakyouandM’sieuGraemewouldfollowqueek.Sandyhe’stakeoneleeldrinkupatdestable，andhe’sgomadlakonediable.’
　　IsenthimforGraeme，whowaspresidingatdinner，andsetoffforSlavin’satarun.ThereIfoundMr.CraigandNelsonholdingSandy，morethanhalfdrunk，backfromSlavin，who，strippedtotheshirt，wascoollywaitingwithatauntingsmile.
　　’Letmego，Mr.Craig，’Sandywassaying，’IamagoodPresbyterian.
　　HeisaPapistthief;andhehasmymoney;andIwillhaveitoutofthesoulofhim.’
　　’Lethimgo，preacher，’sneeredSlavin，’I’llcoolhimoffforyez.
　　Butye’dbetterholdhimifyezwantshismugleftontohim.’
　　’Lethimgo！’Keefewasshouting.
　　’Handsoff！’Blaneywasechoing.
　　Ipushedmywayin.’What’sup？’Icried.
　　’Mr.Connor，’saidSandysolemnly，’itisagentlemanyouare，thoughyournameisagainstyou，andIamagoodPresbyterian，andIcangiveyoutheCommandmentsandReasonsannexedtothem;
　　butyon’sathief，aPapistthief，andIamjustifiedingettingmymoneyoutofhissoul.’
　　’But，’Iremonstrated，’youwon’tgetitinthisway.’
　　’Hehasmymoney，’reiteratedSandy.
　　’Heisablankliar，andhe’safraidtotakeitup，’saidSlavin，inalow，cooltone.
　　WitharoarSandybrokeawayandrushedathim;but，withoutmovingfromhistracks，Slavinmethimwithastraightleft—handerandlaidhimflat.
　　’Hooray，’yelledBlaney，’Irelandforever！’and，seizingtheironpoker，swungitaroundhishead，crying，’Back，or，bytheholyMoses，I’llkillthefirstmanthatinterfereswidthegame.’
　　’Giveittohim！’Keefesaidsavagely.
　　Sandyroseslowly，gazingroundstupidly.
　　’Hedon’tknowwhathithim，’laughedKeefe.
　　ThisrousedtheHighlander，andsaying，’I’llsettleyouafterwards，MisterKeefe，’herushedinagainatSlavin.AgainSlavinmethimagainwithhisleft，staggeredhim，and，beforehefell，tookastepforwardanddeliveredaterrificright—handblowonhisjaw.PoorSandywentdowninaheapamidtheyellsofBlaney，Keefe，andsomeothersofthegang.IwasindespairwhenincameBaptisteandGraeme.
　　OnelookatSandy，andBaptistetoreoffhiscoatandcap，slammedthemonthefloor，dancedonthem，andwithalong—drawn’sap—r—r—r—rie，’rushedatSlavin.ButGraemecaughthimbythebackoftheneck，saying，’Holdon，littleman，’andturningtoSlavin，pointedtoSandy，whowasrevivingunderNelson’scare，andsaid，’What’sthisfor？’
　　’Askhim，’saidSlavininsolently.’Heknows.’
　　’Whatisit，Nelson？’
　　NelsonexplainedthatSandy，afterdrinkingsomeatthestableandaglassattheBlackRockHotel，hadcomedownherewithKeefeandtheothers，hadlosthismoney，andwasaccusingSlavinofrobbinghim.
　　’Didyoufurnishhimwithliquor？’saidGraemesternly.
　　’Itisnoneofyourbusiness，’repliedSlavin，withanoath.
　　’Ishallmakeitmybusiness.Itisnotthefirsttimemymenhavelostmoneyinthissaloon.’
　　’Youlie，’saidSlavin，withdeliberateemphasis.
　　’Slavin，’saidGraemequietly，’it’sapityyousaidthat，because，unlessyouapologiseinoneminute，Ishallmakeyousorry.’
　　’Apologise？’roaredSlavin，’apologisetoyou？’callinghimavilename.
　　Graemegrewwhite，andsaidevenmoreslowly，’Nowyou’llhavetotakeit;noapologywilldo.’
　　Heslowlystrippedoffcoatandvest.Mr.Craiginterposed，beggingGraemetoletthematterpass.’Surelyheisnotworthit.’
　　’Mr.Craig，’saidGraeme，withaneasysmile，’youdon’tunderstand.Nomancancallmethatnameandwalkaroundafterwardsfeelingwell.’
　　Then，turningtoSlavin，hesaid，’Now，ifyouwantaminute’srest，Icanwait.’
　　Slavin，withacurse，badehimcome.
　　’Blaney，’saidGraemesharply，’yougetback.’BlaneypromptlysteppedbacktoKeefe’sside.’Nelson，youandBaptistecanseethattheystaythere.’TheoldmannoddedandlookedatCraig，whosimplysaid，’Dothebestyoucan.’
　　Itwasagoodfight.Slavinhadplentyofpluck，andforatimeforcedthefighting，Graemeguardingeasilyandtappinghimaggravatinglyaboutthenoseandeyes，drawingblood，butnotdisablinghim.GraduallytherecamealookoffearintoSlavin’seyes，andthebeadsstooduponhisface.Hehadmethismaster.
　　’Now，Slavin，you’rebeginningtobesorry;andnowIamgoingtoshowyouwhatyouaremadeof.’Graememadeoneortwolightningpasses，struckSlavinone，two，threeterrificblows，andlaidhimquiteflatandsenseless.KeefeandBlaneybothsprangforward，buttherewasasavagekindofgrowl.
　　’Hold，there！’ItwasoldmanNelsonlookingalongapistolbarrel.’Youknowme，Keefe，’hesaid.’Youwon’tdoanymurderthistime.’
　　Keefeturnedgreenandyellow，andstaggeredback，whileSlavinslowlyrosetohisfeet.
　　’Willyoutakesomemore？’saidGraeme.’Youhaven’tgotmuch;butmindIhavestoppedplayingwithyou.Putupyourgun，Nelson.Noonewillinterferenow.’
　　Slavinhesitated，thenrushed，butGraemesteppedtomeethim，andwesawSlavin’sheelsintheairashefellbackuponhisneckandshouldersandlaystill，withhistoesquivering.
　　’Bon！’yelledBaptiste.’Bullyboy！Dat’sdebonstuff.Dat’slarnhimonegoodlesson.’Butimmediatelyheshrieked，Gar—r—r—r—eavous！’
　　Hewastoolate，fortherewasacrashofbreakingglass，andGraemefelltothefloorwithalongdeepcutonthesideofhishead.Keefehadhurledabottlewithalltoosureanaim，andhadfled.Ithoughthewasdead;butwecarriedhimout，andinafewminuteshegroaned，openedhiseyes，andsankagainintoinsensibility.
　　’Wherecanwetakehim？’Icried.
　　’Tomyshack，’saidMr.Craig.
　　’Istherenoplacenearer？’
　　’Yes;Mrs.Mavor’s.Ishallrunontotellher.’
　　Shemetusatthedoor.Ihadinmindtosaysomewordsofapology，butwhenIlookeduponherfaceIforgotmywords，forgotmybusinessatherdoor，andstoodsimplylooking.
　　’Comein！Bringhimin！Pleasedonotwait，’shesaid，andhervoicewassweetandsoftandfirm.
　　WelaidhiminalargeroomatthebackoftheshopoverwhichMrs.
　　Mavorlived.Togetherwedressedthewound，herfirmwhitefingers，skilfulasifwithlongtraining.BeforethedressingwasfinishedIsentCraigoff，forthetimehadcomefortheMagicLanterninthechurch，andIknewhowcriticalthemomentwasinourfight.’Go，’Isaid;’heiscomingto，andwedonotneedyou.’
　　InafewmomentsmoreGraemerevived，and，gazingabout，asked，’What’s，allthisabout？’andthen，recollecting，’Ah！thatbruteKeefe’;thenseeingmyanxiousfacehesaidcarelessly，’Awfulbore，ain’tit？Sorrytotroubleyou，oldfellow.’
　　’Youbehanged！’Isaidshortly;forhisoldsweetsmilewasplayingabouthislips，andwasalmosttoomuchforme.’Mrs.
　　MavorandIareincommand，andyoumustkeepperfectlystill.’
　　’Mrs.Mavor？’hesaid，insurprise.Shecameforward，withaslightflushonherface.
　　’Ithinkyouknowme，Mr.Graeme.’
　　’Ihaveoftenseenyou，andwishedtoknowyou.Iamsorrytobringyouthistrouble.’
　　’Youmustnotsayso，’shereplied，’butletmedoallforyouthatIcan.Andnowthedoctorsaysyouaretoliestill.’
　　’Thedoctor？Oh！youmeanConnor.Heishardlythereyet.Youdon’tknoweachother.PermitmetopresentMr.Connor，Mrs.
　　Mavor.’
　　Asshebowedslightly，hereyeslookedintominewithseriousgaze，notinquiring，yetsearchingmysoul.AsIlookedintohereyesI
　　forgoteverythingaboutme，andwhenIrecalledmyselfitseemedasifIhadbeenawayinsomefarplace.Itwasnottheircolourortheirbrightness;Idonotyetknowtheircolour，andIhaveoftenlookedintothem;andtheywerenotbright;buttheywereclear，andonecouldlookfardownintothem，andintheirdepthsseeaglowing，steadylight.AsIwenttogetsomedrugsfromtheBlackRockdoctor，Ifoundmyselfwonderingaboutthatfar—downlight;
　　andabouthervoice，howitcouldgetthatsoundfromfaraway.
　　Ifoundthedoctorquitedrunk，asindeedMr.Craighadwarned;buthisdrugsweregood，andIgotwhatIwantedandquicklyreturned.
　　WhileGraemesleptMrs.Mavormademetea.AstheeveningworeonItoldhertheeventsoftheday，dwellingadmiringlyuponCraig’sgeneralship.Shesmiledatthis.
　　’Hegotmetoo，’shesaid.’Nixonwassenttomejustbeforethesports;andIdon’tthinkhewillbreakdownto—day，andIamsothankful.’Andhereyesglowed.
　　’Iamquitesurehewon’t，’Ithoughttomyself，butIsaidnoword.
　　Afteralongpause，shewenton，’IhavepromisedMr.Craigtosingto—night，ifIamneeded！’andthen，afteramoment’shesitation，’ItistwoyearssinceIhavebeenabletosing——twoyears，’sherepeated，’since’——andthenherbravevoicetrembled——’myhusbandwaskilled.’
　　’Iquiteunderstand，’Isaid，havingnootherwordonmytongue’And，’shewentonquietly，’IfearIhavebeenselfish.Itishardtosingthesamesongs.Wewereveryhappy.Buttheminersliketohearmesing，andIthinkperhapsithelpsthemtofeellesslonely，andkeepsthemfromevil.Ishalltryto—night，ifI
　　amneeded.Mr.Craigwillnotaskmeunlesshemust.’
　　IwouldhaveseeneveryminerandlumbermanintheplacehideouslydrunkbeforeIwouldhaveaskedhertosingonesongwhileherheartached.IwonderedatCraig，andsaid，ratherangrily——
　　’Hethinksonlyofthosewretchedminersandshantymenofhis.’
　　Shelookedatmewithwonderinhereyes，andsaidgently，’AndaretheynotChrist’stoo？’
　　AndIfoundnowordtoreply.
　　Itwasnearingteno’clock，andIwaswonderinghowthefightwasgoing，andhopingthatMrs.Mavorwouldnotbeneeded，whenthedooropened，andoldmanNelsonandSandy，thelattermuchbatteredandashamed，cameinwiththewordforMrs.Mavor.
　　’Iwillcome，’shesaidsimply.Shesawmepreparingtoaccompanyher，andasked，’Doyouthinkyoucanleavehim？’
　　’HewilldoquitewellinNelson’scare.’
　　’ThenIamglad;forImusttakemylittleonewithme.IdidnotputhertobedincaseIshouldneedtogo，andImaynotleaveher.’
　　Weenteredthechurchbythebackdoor，andsawatoncethatevenyetthebattlemighteasilybelost.
　　SomeminershadjustcomefromSlavin’s，evidentlybentonbreakingupthemeeting，inrevengeforthecollapseofthedance，whichSlavinwasunabletoenjoy，muchlessdirect.Craigwasgallantlyholdinghisground，findingithardworktokeephismeningoodhumour，andsopreventafight，fortherewerecriesof’Puthimout！Putthebeastout！’ataminerhalfdrunkandwhollyoutrageous.
　　ThelookofreliefthatcameoverhisfacewhenCraigcaughtsightofustoldhowanxioushehadbeen，andreconciledmetoMrs.
　　Mavor’ssinging.’ThankthegoodGod，’hesaid，withwhatcamenearbeingasob，’Iwasabouttodespair.’
　　Heimmediatelywalkedtothefrontandcalledout——
　　’Gentlemen，ifyouwishit，Mrs.Mavorwillsing.’
　　Therewasadeadsilence.Someonebegantoapplaud，butaminersaidsavagely，’Stopthat，youfool！’
　　Therewasafewmoments’delay，whenfromthecrowdavoicecalledout，’DoesMrs.Mavorwishtosing？’followedbycriesof’Ay，that’sit.’ThenShaw，theforemanatthemines，stoodupintheaudienceandsaid——
　　’Mr.Craigandgentlemen，youknowthatthreeyearsagoIwasknownas"OldRicketts，"andthatIoweallIamto—night，underGod，toMrs.Mavor，and’——withalittlequiverinhisvoice——’herbaby.
　　Andweallknowthatfortwoyearsshehasnotsung;andweallknowwhy.AndwhatIsayis，thatifshedoesnotfeellikesingingto—night，sheisnotgoingtosingtokeepanydrunkenbruteofSlavin’scrowdquiet.’
　　Thereweredeepgrowlsofapprovalalloverthechurch.IcouldhavehuggedShawthenandthere.Mr.CraigwenttoMrs.Mavor，andafterawordwithhercamebackandsaid——
　　’Mrs.Mavor，wishesmetothankherdearfriendMr.Shaw，butsaysshewouldliketosing.’
　　Theresponsewasperfectstillness.Mr.Craigsatdowntotheorganandplayedtheopeningbarsofthetouchingmelody，’OftintheStillyNight.’Mrs.Mavorcametothefront，and，withasmileofexquisitesweetnessuponhersadface，andlookingstraightatuswithhergloriouseyes，begantosing.
　　Hervoice，arichsoprano，evenandtrue，roseandfell，nowsoft，nowstrong，butalwaysfillingthebuilding，pouringaroundusfloodsofmusic.IhadheardPatti’s’Home，sweetHome，’andofallsingingthataloneaffectedmeasdidthis.
　　Attheendofthefirstversethefewwomeninthechurchandsomemenwereweepingquietly;butwhenshebeganthewords——
　　’WhenIrememberallThefriendsoncelinkedtogether，’
　　sobscameoneverysidefromthesetender—heartedfellows，andShawquitelosthisgrip.Butshesangsteadilyon，thetoneclearerandsweeterandfullerateverynote，andwhenthesoundofhervoicediedaway，shestoodlookingatthemenasifinwonderthattheyshouldweep.Noonemoved.Mr.Craigplayedsoftlyon，and，wanderingthroughmanyvariations，arrivedatlastat’Jesus，loverofmysoul.’
　　Asshesangtheappealingwords，herfacewasliftedup，andshesawnoneofus;butshemusthaveseensomeone，forthecryinhervoicecouldonlycomefromonewhocouldseeandfeelhelpcloseathand.Onandonwentthegloriousvoice，searchingmysoul’sdepths;butwhenshecametothewords——
　　’Thou，OChrist，artallIwant，’
　　shestretchedupherarms——shehadquiteforgottenus，hervoicehadbornehertootherworlds——andsangwithsuchapassionof’abandon’thatmysoulwasreadytosurrenderanything，everything.
　　AgainMr.Craigwanderedonthroughhischangingchordstillagainhecametofamiliarground，andthevoicebegan，inlow，thrillingtones，Bernard’sgreatsongofhome——
　　’Jerusalemthegolden.’
　　Everyword，withallitsweightofmeaning，camewingingtooursouls，tillwefoundourselvesgazingafarintothosestatelyhallsofZion，withtheirdaylightsereneandtheirjubilantthrongs.
　　Whenthesingercametothelastversetherewasapause.AgainMr.Craigsoftlyplayedtheinterlude，butstilltherewasnovoice.Ilookedup.Shewasverywhite，andhereyeswereglowingwiththeirdeeplight.Mr.Craiglookedquicklyabout，sawher，stopped，andhalfrose，asiftogotoher，when，inavoicethatseemedtocomefromafar—offland，shewenton——
　　’Osweetandblessedcountry！’
　　Thelonging，theyearning，inthesecond’O’wereindescribable.
　　Againandagain，assheheldthatword，andthendroppeddownwiththecadenceinthemusic，myheartachedforIknewnotwhat.
　　Theaudienceweresittingasinatrance.Thegrimyfacesoftheminers，fortheynevergetquitewhite，werefurrowedwiththetear—courses.Shaw，bythistime，hadhisfacetooliftedhigh，hiseyesgazingfarabovethesinger’shead，andIknewbytheraptureinhisfacethathewasseeing，asshesaw，thethrongingstatelyhallsandthewhite—robedconquerors.Hehadfelt，andwasstillfeeling，allthestressofthefight，andtohimthevisionoftheconquerorsintheirglorywassoul—drawingandsoul—
　　stirring.AndNixon，too——hehadhisvision;butwhathesawwasthefaceofthesinger，withtheshiningeyes，and，bythelookofhim，thatwasvisionenough.
　　ImmediatelyafterherlastnoteMrs.Mavorstretchedoutherhandstoherlittlegirl，whowassittingonmyknee，caughtherup，and，holdingherclosetoherbreast，walkedquicklybehindthecurtain.
　　Notasoundfollowedthesinging：noonemovedtillshehaddisappeared;andthenMr.Craigcametothefront，and，motioningtometofollowMrs.Mavor，beganinalow，distinctvoice——
　　’Gentlemen，itwasnoteasyforMrs.Mavortosingforus，andyouknowshesangbecausesheisaminer’swife，andherheartiswiththeminers.Butshesang，too，becauseherheartisHiswhocametoearththisdaysomanyyearsagotosaveusall;andshewouldmakeyouloveHimtoo.ForinlovingHimyouaresavedfromallbaseloves，andyouknowwhatImean.
　　’Andbeforewesaygood—night，men，Iwanttoknowifthetimeisnotcomewhenallofyouwhomeantobebetterthanyouareshouldjoininputtingfromusthisthingthathasbroughtsorrowandshametousandtothosewelove？YouknowwhatImean.Someofyouarestrong;willyoustandbyandseeweakermenrobbedofthemoneytheysaveforthosefaraway，androbbedofthemanhoodthatnomoneycanbuyorrestore？
　　’Willthestrongmenhelp？Shallwealljoinhandsinthis？Whatdoyousay？Inthistownwehaveoftenseenhell，andjustamomentagowewerealllookingintoheaven，"thesweetandblessedcountry."Omen！’andhisvoiceranginanagonythroughthebuilding——’Omen！whichshallbeours？ForHeaven’sdearsake，letushelponeanother！Whowill？’
　　Iwaslookingoutthroughaslitinthecurtain.Themen，alreadywroughttointensefeelingbythemusic，werelisteningwithsetfacesandgleamingeyes，andasattheappeal’Whowill？’Craigraisedhighhishand，Shaw，Nixon，andahundredmensprangtotheirfeetandheldhightheirhands.
　　Ihavewitnessedsomethrillingscenesinmylife，butneveranythingtoequalthat：theonemanontheplatformstandingatfullheight，withhishandthrownuptoheaven，andthehundredmenbelowstandingstraight，witharmsupatfulllength，silent，andalmostmotionless.
　　ForamomentCraigheldthemso;andagainhisvoicerangout，louder，sternerthanbefore——
　　’Allwhomeanit，say，"ByGod’shelpIwill."’Andbackfromahundredthroatscamedeepandstrongthewords，’ByGod’shelp，I
　　will.’
　　AtthispointMrs.Mavor，whomIhadquiteforgotten，putherhandonmyarm.’Goandtellhim，’shepanted，’IwantthemtocomeonThursdaynight，astheyusedtointheotherdays——go——quick，’andshealmostpushedmeout.IgaveCraighermessage.Hehelduphishandforsilence.
　　’Mrs.Mavorwishesmetosaythatshewillbegladtoseeyouall，asintheolddays，onThursdayevening;andIcanthinkofnobetterplacetogiveformalexpressiontoourpledgeofthisnight’
　　Therewasashoutofacceptance;andthen，atsomeone’scall，thelongpent—upfeelingsofthecrowdfoundventinthreemightycheersforMrs.Mavor.
　　’Nowforouroldhymn，’calledoutMr.Craig，’andMrs.Mavorwillleadus.’
　　Hesatdownattheorgan，playedafewbarsof’TheSweetByandBy，’andthenMrs.Mavorbegan.Butnotasouljoinedtilltherefrainwasreached，andthentheysangasonlymenwiththeirheartsonfirecansing.ButafterthelastrefrainMr.CraigmadeasigntoMrs.Mavor，andshesangalone，slowlyandsoftly，andwitheyeslookingfaraway——
　　’Inthesweetbyandby，Weshallmeetonthatbeautifulshore.’
　　Therewasnobenediction——thereseemednoneed;andthemenwentquietlyout.Butoverandoveragainthevoicekeptsinginginmyearsandinmyheart，’Weshallmeetonthatbeautifulshore.’Andafterthesleigh—loadsofmenhadgoneandleftthestreetempty，asIstoodwithCraigintheradiantmoonlightthatmadethegreatmountainsaboutcomenearus，fromSandy’ssleighweheardinthedistanceBaptiste’sFrench—Englishsong;butthesongthatfloateddownwiththesoundofthebellsfromtheminers’sleighwas——
　　’Weshallmeetonthatbeautifulshore.’
　　’PooroldShaw！’saidCraigsoftly.
　　WhenthelastsoundhaddiedawayIturnedtohimandsaid——
　　’Youhavewonyourfight.’
　　’Wehavewonourfight;Iwasbeaten，’herepliedquickly，offeringmehishand.Then，takingoffhiscap，andlookingupbeyondthemountain—topsandthesilentstars，headdedsoftly，’Ourfight，butHisvictory.’
　　And，thinkingitallover，Icouldnotsaybutperhapshewasright.
　　CHAPTERIV
　　MRS.MAVOR’SSTORY
　　ThedaysthatfollowedtheBlackRockChristmaswereanxiousdaysandweary，butnotforthebrightestofmylifewouldIchangethemnow;for，asaftertheburningheatorrockingstormthedyingdayliesbeautifulinthetenderglowoftheevening，sothesedayshavelosttheirwearinessandliebathedinamistyglory.Theyearsthatbringusmanyills，andthatpasssostormfullyoverus，bearawaywiththemtheugliness，theweariness，thepainthataretheirs，butthebeauty，thesweetness，theresttheyleaveuntouched，fortheseareeternal.Asthemountains，thatnearathandstandjaggedandscarred，inthefardistancereposeintheirsoftrobesofpurplehaze，sotheroughpresentfadesintothepast，softandsweetandbeautiful.
　　Ihavesetmyselftorecallthepainandanxietyofthosedaysandnightswhenwewaitedinfearfortheturnofthefever，butIcanonlythinkofthepatienceandgentlenessandcourageofherwhostoodbesideme，bearingmorethanhalfmyburden.AndwhileIcanseethefaceofLeslieGraeme，ghastlyorflushed，andhearhislowmoaningorthebrokenwordsofhisdelirium，Ithinkchieflyofthebrightfacebendingoverhim，andofthecool，firm，swift—movinghandsthatsoothedandsmoothedandrested，andthevoice，likethesoftsongofabirdinthetwilight，thatneverfailedtobringpeace.
　　Mrs.MavorandIweremuchtogetherduringthosedays.ImademyhomeinMr.Craig’sshack，butmostofmytimewasspentbesidemyfriend.WedidnotseemuchofCraig，forhewasheart—deepwiththeminers，layingplansforthemakingoftheLeaguethefollowingThursday;andthoughhesharedouranxietyandwaseverreadytorelieveus，histhoughtandhistalkhadmostlytodowiththeLeague.
　　Mrs.Mavor’seveningsweregiventotheminers，butherafternoonsmostlytoGraemeandtome，andthenitwasIsawanothersideofhercharacter.Wewouldsitinherlittledining—room，wherethepicturesonthewalls，thequaintoldsilver，andbitsofcuriouslycutglass，allspokeofotheranddifferentdays，andthencewewouldroamtheworldofliteratureandart.Keenlysensitivetoallthegoodandbeautifulinthese，shehadherfavouritesamongthemasters，forwhomshewasreadytodobattle;andwhenherargument，instinctwithfancyandvividimagination，failed，shesweptawayallopposingopinionwiththeswiftrushofherenthusiasm;sothat，thoughIfeltshewasbeaten，Iwasleftwithoutwordstoreply.ShakespeareandTennysonandBurnssheloved，butnotShelley，norByron，norevenWordsworth.Browningsheknewnot，andthereforecouldnotrankhimwithhernoblestthree;butwhenIreadtoher’ADeathintheDesert，’and，cametothenoblewordsattheendofthetale——
　　’ForallwasasIsay，andnowthemanLiesasheoncelay，breasttobreastwithGod，’
　　thelightshoneinhereyes，andshesaid，’Oh，thatisgoodandgreat;Ishallgetmuchoutofhim;Ihadalwaysfearedhewasimpossible.’And’Paracelsus，’too，stirredher;butwhenI
　　recitedthethrillingfragment，’Prospice，’ontothatclosingrapturouscry——
　　’Thenalight，thenthybreast，Othousoulofmysoul！Ishallclasptheeagain，AndwithGodbetherest！’——
　　theredcolourfadedfromhercheek，herbreathcameinasob，andsherosequicklyandpassedoutwithoutaword.Everafter，Browningwasamonghergods.Butwhenwetalkedofmusic，she，adoringWagner，soareduponthewingsofthemightyTannhauser，farabove，intoregionsunknown，leavingmetowalksoberlywithBeethovenandMendelssohn.Yetwithallourfree，franktalk，therewasallthewhilethatinhergentlecourtesywhichkeptmefromventuringintoanychamberofherlifewhosedoorshedidnotsetfreelyopentome.SoIvexedmyselfabouther，andwhenMr.
　　CraigreturnedthenextweekfromtheLandingwherehehadbeenforsomedays，myfirstquestionwas——
　　’WhoisMrs.Mavor？Andhowinthenameofallthatiswonderfulandunlikelydoesshecometobehere？Andwhydoesshestay？’
　　Hewouldnotanswerthen;whetheritwasthathismindwasfullofthecomingstruggle，orwhetherheshrankfromthetale，Iknownot;butthatnight，whenwesattogetherbesidehisfire，hetoldmethestory，whileIsmoked.Hewaswornwithhislong，harddrive，andwiththeburdenofhiswork，butashewentonwithhistale，lookingintothefireashetoldit，heforgotallhispresentwearinessandlivedagainthesceneshepaintedforme.
　　Thiswashisstory：——
　　’Irememberwellmyfirstsightofher，asshesprangfromthefrontseatofthestagetotheground，hardlytouchingherhusband’shand.Shelookedameregirl.Let’ssee——fiveyearsago——shecouldn’thavebeenadayovertwentythree.Shelookedbarelytwenty.Herswiftglancesweptoverthegroupofminersatthehoteldoor，andthenrestedonthemountainsstandinginalltheirautumnglory.
　　’Iwasproudofourmountainsthatevening.Turningtoherhusband，sheexclaimed："OLewis，aretheynotgrand？andlovely，too？"Everyminerlosthisheartthenandthere，butallwaitedforAbethedrivertogivehisverdictbeforeventuringanopinion.
　　Abesaidnothinguntilhehadtakenapreliminarydrink，andthen，callingallhandstofillup，heliftedhisglasshigh，andsaidsolemnly——
　　’"Boys，here’stoher."
　　’Likeaflasheveryglasswasemptied，andAbecalledout，"Fillherupagain，boys！Mytreat！"
　　’Hewasevidentlyquiteworkedup.Thenhebegan，withsolemnemphasis——
　　’"Boys，youhearme！She’saNo.1，tripleX，thepurequillwithabeadonit：she’sa——，"andforthefirsttimeinhisBlackRockhistoryAbewasstuckforaword.Someonesuggested"angel."
　　’"Angel！"repeatedAbe，withinfinitecontempt."Angelbeblowed，"
　　（Iparaphrasehere）;"angelsain’tinthesamemonthwithher;I’dliketoseeanyblankedangelswingmyteamaroundthemcurveswithoutashiver."
　　’"Heldthelinesherself，Abe？"askedaminer.
　　’"That’swhat，"saidAbe;andthenhewentoffintoafusiladeofscientificprofanity，expressiveofhisesteemforthegirlwhohadswunghisteamroundthecurves;andtheminersnoddedtoeachother，andwinkedtheirentireapprovalofAbe’sperformance，forthiswashisspecialty.
　　’Verydecentfellow，Abe，buthistalkwouldn’tprint.’
　　HereCraigpaused，asifbalancingAbe’svirtuesandvices.
　　’Well，’Iurged，’whoisshe？’
　　’Ohyes，’hesaid，recallinghimself;’sheisanEdinburghyounglady——metLewisMayor，ayoungScotch—Englishman，inLondon——
　　wealthy，goodfamily，andallthat，butfast，andgoingtopiecesathome.Hispeople，whoownlargesharesinthesemineshere，asalastresortsenthimoutheretoreform.Curiouslyinnocentideasthoseoldcountrypeoplehaveofthereformingpropertiesofthisatmosphere！Theysendtheiryoungbloodsheretoreform.
　　Here！inthisdevil’scamp—ground，whereaman’slustishisonlylaw，andwhen，fromsheermonotony，amanmustbetakehimselftotheonlyexcitementoftheplace——thatofferedbythesaloon.Goodpeopleintheeastholdupholyhandsofhorroratthesegodlessminers;butItellyouit’saskingtheseboysagooddealtokeepstraightandcleaninaplacelikethis.Itakemyexcitementinfightingthedevilanddoingmyworkgenerally，andthatgivesmeenough;butthesepoorchaps——hardworked，homeless，withnobreakorchange——Godhelpthemandme！’andhisvoicesanklow.
　　’Well，’Ipersisted，’didMavorreform？’
　　Againherousedhimself.’Reform？Notexactly.Insix—monthshehadbrokenthroughallrestraint;and，mindyou，nottheminers’
　　fault——notaminerhelpedhimdown.ItwasasighttomakeangelsweepwhenMrs.Mavorwouldcometothesaloondoorforherhusband.
　　Everyminerwouldvanish;theycouldnotlookuponhershame，andtheywouldsendMavorforthinthechargeofBillyBreen，aqueerlittlechap，whohadbelongedtotheMavorsinsomewayintheoldcountry，andbetweenthemtheywouldgethimhome.Howshestooditpuzzlesmetothisday;butshenevermadeanysign，andhercourageneverfailed.Itwasalwaysabright，brave，proudfaceshehelduptotheworld——exceptinchurch;thereitwasdifferent.
　　Iusedtopreachmysermons，Ibelieve，mostlyforher——butneversothatshecouldsuspect——asbravelyandascheerilyasIcould.
　　Andasshelistened，andespeciallyasshesang——howsheusedtosinginthosedays！——therewasnotouchofprideinherface，thoughthecourageneverdiedout，butappeal，appeal！Icouldhavecursedaloudthecauseofhermisery，orweptforthepityofit.Beforeherbabywasbornheseemedtopullhimselftogether，forhewasquitemadabouther，andfromthedaythebabycame——
　　talkaboutmiracles！——fromthatdayheneverdrankadrop.Shegavethebabyovertohim，andthebabysimplyabsorbedhim.
　　’Hewasanewman.Hecouldnotdrinkwhiskyandkisshisbaby.
　　Andtheminers——itwasreallyabsurdifitwerenotsopathetic.
　　ItwasthefirstbabyinBlackRock，andtheyusedtocrowdMavor’sshopandpeepintotheroomatthebackofit——Iforgottotellyouthatwhenhelosthispositionasmanagerheopenedahardwareshop，forhispeoplechuckedhim，andhewastooproudtowritehomeformoney——justforachancetobeaskedintoseethebaby.
　　IcameuponNixonstandingatthebackoftheshopafterhehadseenthebabyforthefirsttime，sobbinghard，andtomyquestionhereplied："It’sjustlikemyown."Youcan’tunderstandthis.
　　Buttomenwhohavelivedsolonginthemountainsthattheyhaveforgottenwhatababylookslike，whohavehadexperienceofhumanityonlyinitsroughest，foulestform，thislittlemite，sweetandclean，waslikeanangelfreshfromheaven，theonelinkinallthatblackcampthatboundthemtowhatwaspurestandbestintheirpast.
　　’Andtoseethemotherandherbabyhandletheminers！
　　’Oh，itwasallbeautifulbeyondwords！IshallneverforgettheshockIgotonenightwhenIfound"OldRicketts"nursingthebaby.
　　Adrunkenoldbeasthewas;buttherehewassitting，soberenough，makingextraordinaryfacesatthebaby，whowasgrabbingathisnoseandwhiskersandcooinginblissfuldelight.Poor"OldRicketts"lookedasifhehadbeencaughtstealing，andmutteringsomethingabouthavingtogo，gazedwildlyroundforsomeplaceinwhichtolaythebaby，whenincamethemother，sayinginherownsweet，frankway："OMr.Ricketts"（shedidn’tfindouttillafterwardshisnamewasShaw），"wouldyoumindkeepingherjustalittlelonger？——Ishallbebackinafewminutes."And"OldRicketts"guessedhecouldwait.
　　’Butinsixmonthsmotherandbaby，betweenthem，transformed"OldRicketts"intoMr.Shaw，fire—bossofthemines.Andthenintheevenings，whenshewouldbesingingherbabytosleep，thelittleshopwouldbefullofminers，listeningindeadsilencetothebaby—songs，andtheEnglishsongs，andtheScotchsongsshepouredforthwithoutstint，forshesangmoreforthemthanforherbaby.
　　Nowondertheyadoredher.Shewassobright，sogay，shebroughtlightwithherwhenshewentintothecamp，intothepits——forshewentdowntoseethemenwork——orintoasickminer’sshack;andmanyaman，lonelyandsickforhomeorwife，orbabyormother，foundinthatbackroomcheerandcomfortandcourage，andtomanyapoorbrokenwretchthatroombecame，asoneminerputit，"theanteroomtoheaven."’
　　Mr.Craigpaused，andIwaited.Thenhewentonslowly——
　　’Forayearandahalfthatwasthehappiesthomeinalltheworld，tilloneday——’
　　Heputhisfaceinhishands，andshuddered.
　　’Idon’tthinkIcaneverforgettheawfulhorrorofthatbrightfallafternoon，when"OldRicketts"camebreathlesstomeandgasped，"Come！forthedearLord’ssake，"andIrushedafterhim.
　　Atthemouthoftheshaftlaythreemendead.OnewasLewisMavor.
　　Hehadgonedowntosuperintendtherunningofanewdrift;thetwomen，halfdrunkwithSlavin’swhisky，setoffashotprematurely，totheirownandMavor’sdestruction.Theywerebadlyburned，buthisfacewasuntouched.Aminerwasspongingoffthebloodyfrothoozingfromhislips.Theotherswerestandingaboutwaitingformetospeak.ButIcouldfindnoword，formyheartwassick，thinking，astheywere，oftheyoungmotherandherbabywaitingathome.SoIstood，lookingstupidlyfromonetotheother，tryingtofindsomereason——cowardthatIwas——whyanothershouldbearthenewsratherthanI.Andwhilewestoodthere，lookingatoneanotherinfear，therebrokeuponusthesoundofavoicemountinghighabovethebirchtops，singing——
　　"Willyeno’comebackagain？
　　Willyeno’comebackagain？
　　Betterlo’edyecannabe，Willyeno’comebackagain？"
　　’Astrangeterrorseizedus.Instinctivelythemenclosedupinfrontofthebody，andstoodinsilence.Nearerandnearercametheclear，sweetvoice，ringinglikeasilverbellupthesteep——
　　"Sweetthelav’rock’snoteandlang，Liltin’wildlyuptheglen，Butayetaemehesingsaesang，Willyeno’comebackagain？"
　　’Beforetheversewasfinished"OldRicketts"haddroppedonhisknees，sobbingoutbrokenly，"OGod！OGod！havepity，havepity，havepity！"——andeverymantookoffhishat.Andstillthevoicecamenearer，singingsobrightlytherefrain，’"Willyeno’comebackagain？’
　　’Itbecameunbearable."OldRicketts"sprangsuddenlytohisfeet，and，grippingmebythearm，saidpiteously，"Oh，gotoher！forHeaven’ssake，gotoher！"Inextrememberstandinginherpathandseeingherholdingoutherhandsfullofredlilies，cryingout，"Aretheynotlovely？Lewisissofondofthem！"WiththepromiseofmuchfineronesIturnedherdownapathtowardtheriver，talkingIknownotwhatfolly，tillhergreateyesgrewgrave，thenanxious，andmytonguestammeredandbecamesilent.
　　Then，layingherhanduponmyarm，shesaidwithgentlesweetness，"Tellmeyourtrouble，Mr.Craig，"andIknewmyagonyhadcome，andIburstout，"Oh，ifitwereonlymine！"Sheturnedquitewhite，andwithherdeepeyes——you’venoticedhereyes——drawingthetruthoutofmine，shesaid，"Isitmine，Mr.Craig，andmybaby’s？"Iwaited，thinkingwithwhatwordstobegin.Sheputonehandtoherheart，andwiththeothercaughtalittlepoplar—treethatshiveredunderhergrasp，andsaidwithwhitelips，butevenmoregently，"Tellme."IwonderedatmyvoicebeingsosteadyasIsaid，"Mrs.Mavor，Godwillhelpyouandyourbaby.Therehasbeenanaccident——anditisallover."
　　’Shewasaminer’swife，andtherewasnoneedformore.Icouldseethepatternofthesunlightfallingthroughthetreesuponthegrass.Icouldhearthemurmuroftheriver，andthecryofthecat—birdinthebushes，butweseemedtobeinastrangeandunrealworld.Suddenlyshestretchedoutherhandstome，andwithalittlemoansaid，"Takemetohim."
　　’"Sitdownforamomentortwo，"Ientreated.
　　’"No，no！Iamquiteready.See，"sheaddedquietly，"Iamquitestrong."
　　’Isetoffbyashortcutleadingtoherhome，hopingthemenwouldbetherebeforeus;but，passingme，shewalkedswiftlythroughthetrees，andIfollowedinfear.AswecamenearthemainpathI
　　heardthesoundoffeet，andItriedtostopher，butshe，too，hadheardandknew."Oh，letmego！"shesaidpiteously;"youneednotfear."AndIhadnotthehearttostopher.Inalittleopeningamongthepineswemetthebearers.Whenthemensawher，theylaidtheirburdengentlydownuponthecarpetofyellowpine—
　　needles，andthen，fortheyhadtheheartsoftruemeninthem，theywentawayintothebushesandleftheralonewithherdead.
　　Shewentswiftlytohisside，makingnocry，butkneelingbesidehimshestrokedhisfaceandhands，andtouchedhiscurlswithherfingers，murmuringallthetimesoftwordsoflove."Omydarling，mybonnie，bonniedarling，speaktome！Willyenotspeaktomejustonelittleword？Omylove，mylove，myheart’slove！
　　Listen，mydarling！"Andsheputherlipstohisear，whispering，andthentheawfulstillness.Suddenlysheliftedherheadandscannedhisface，andthen，glancingroundwithawildsurpriseinhereyes，shecried，"Hewillnotspeaktome！Oh，hewillnotspeaktome！"Isignedtothemen，andastheycameforwardIwenttoherandtookherhands.
　　’"Oh，"shesaidwithawailinhervoice;"hewillnotspeaktome."Themenweresobbingaloud.Shelookedatthemwithwide—
　　openeyesofwonder."Whyaretheyweeping？Willheneverspeaktomeagain？Tellme，"sheinsistedgently.Thewordswererunningthroughmyhead——
　　’"There’salandthatisfairerthanday，"