"Then what is left? Just--you and me, I reckon, Sandy."

Sandy gripped his clasped hands close as if by so doing he could better control the rising passion of his love for the girl beside him. Her ignoring of stern fact turned his reason. She was right--but she was wrong! He must protect her and never fail her; he must not be less than Lans.

Then her words came to him in the chaos of his emotions; a new thought had claimed her. She had finished, at last, with the story of her exile; she was back among her hills.

"And the factory, Sandy, it is coming on right fast, I reckon?"

"It is nearly done."

"And--the Home-school?"

"That, too, is nearly ready."

"You haven't forgotten the lil' room, off in the corner, have you, Sandy? The lil' room where the baby-things are to come to me to be--cuddled?"

Sandy shivered.

"You--haven't left _that_ out, have you, Sandy?"

"I had, lil' Cyn, but I am going to put it aback--to-morrow."

"I'm right glad, Sandy, for I've learned some mighty sweet lil' tunes, and I've bought some pictures and books with stories that will make them-all laugh when we've taught them how. My trunk is full of things for the babies."

Sandy permitted himself one look at the dear face so close to his own.

It wore the white rapt look he remembered so well; the wonderful, brooding tenderness as fancy held it. It was so she had looked upon him when, as a ragged boy, he sat beside her. She had awakened imagination within his starved soul and given his ambition wings with which to soar.

He and she were now bent forward toward the smouldering fire; he on the stool, she in the deep chair.

"Do you remember, Sandy, lil' Madam Bubble?"

"I reckon I remember nothing else so--clearly."

He looked away, he could trust himself no farther.

"And the 'Biggest of Them All'--you remember him?"

"I--I have forgotten him, Cynthia."

"No--you have not forgotten him, Sandy!"

"He--he does not seem to have any place, lil' Cyn."

"Oh! yes and yes he does! I reckon he is bigger than even you or I--know!"

Did she suspect the terrible weakness of desire that was overpowering him? At this thought Sandy gripped his hands closer; he felt her deep, true eyes upon him and a rush of blood dyed his dark face to crimson.

Cynthia saw this and laid her cool hand upon his shoulder while she asked bravely, daringly:

"Do you love me--Sandy?"

What other woman on earth could have put that question at such a time?

He and she were alone in the empty woods and the night held them.

Sandy turned to her.

"As God hears me--yes, lil' Cyn, with all my heart and soul. I have loved you all my life."

"In this bag," Cynthia touched the bag at her waist, "are the letters I wrote to you, Sandy, while you were away. I hid them in an old tree by Stoneledge. The tree kept them safe for--me. There are a right many--all answers to the one you sent me. Do you want them, Sandy?"

"Yes."

"Here--Sandy!"

The letters, more precious than any other gift, lay in his keeping at last.

"God bless you, lil' Cyn."

She smiled divinely.

"I wandered far down in the valley, Sandy, and I had a hard lesson to learn; a hard thing to do, and I've come home to find you waiting for me. Oh! tell me, dear, isn't there one law, just one in our land to set a lil' girl free who has made a mistake?"

Behind the two by the fire a door opened and, on the threshold stood Levi Markham perplexed and awed. Slowly the meaning of the scene came to him; Matilda had somewhat prepared him; the question of the girl by Sandy's side shed a blinding light upon the confusion of his thoughts.

Standing there, rugged and strong, he seemed the personification of power and solution. But he was waiting; he must know what Sandy felt!

He drew back into the cold, dark passage and played the eavesdropper for the first and last time in his life.

"Mine! mine!" Never had Sandy's voice known that tone before. Levi bowed his head.

"You are mine! Yes, lil' Cyn, there is a law, there must be a law that can give us to each other; I have been waiting for you by The Way all my life, and you have come to me, lil' girl, at last--my lil' Cyn."

Then Levi Markham stole away. He felt along the passage with outstretched hands for his eyes were blinded. He must waken Matilda; he must--but there he paused. The door, at which he had just stood, was opening! He had time, only, to crouch in the shadow of a turn of the hallway before Sandy and Cynthia came out. Sandy had his right arm protectingly around the girl; her bright head rested on his shoulder; in his left hand Sandy held high a lighted candle.

"We must tell them, dear heart," he was whispering; "they two before any one else."

And then Levi, seeing flight possible, ran to his sister's room in order that he might share the confidence that he already possessed.

THE END