the bridle, facing the mountains, and he came
close before she turned.

He stopped. She stood perfectly still, eyes
upon him, upon the horse, a slow pallor creeping
into her face. Presently, as one in a spell, she
let fall the reins, slowly, mechanically, and stepped
toward him, a step ever quickening, her face
drawn, in her eyes a strange, unchanging glow,
until, when almost upon him, she held out both
arms in trembling welcome and uttered a pitiful
outcry.

"Stephen! Pat!" she sobbed. "Why -- why
didn't you--" She checked herself, came close,
reached one arm around Pat, the other around
Stephen, and went on. "I am -- am glad you--
you have come back -- back to me." Her white
face quivered. "Both of you. I -- I have suffered."

And Stephen, swept away by the tide of his
great love, and forgetting his determination,
forgetting everything, bent his head and kissed
her. She did not shrink, and he kissed her
again. Then he began to talk, to tell her of her
wonderful horse. Slowly at first, hesitating, then,
as the spirit of the drama gripped him, rapidly,
sometimes incoherently, he told of his adventures
with the horse, and of Pat's unwavering loyalty
throughout, and of that last dread situation when
both their lives depended upon Pat's winning in a
death-grapple with a wild horse. And then, as
the gates of speech were opened, he showed her
his own part, telling her that as Pat had been

[[287]]

p286 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p287w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p288

v?