n
epoch doesn't matter."

"Mr. Abbott will be waiting. Suppose he came to look for me."

"God forbid! I can't--I won't let you go."

"You must!"

"Joan, you are sure, _sure_ you love me?"

"I know," said Joan steadily, "that I love you. I've known it since
that night upon the lake when you first spoke of--going. I knew it
when you went. And then when you came again. When I think of the farm
without you it turns my heart to stone. Every minute that I--I am away
from you, I am eager to be back."

"Bless your heart!"

She slipped out of his arms with a sigh. His hands clung to her.

"Truly, truly, Kenny, I must go!"

"I'll come back with another lantern after supper."

"No," said Joan. "Please don't. Mr. Abbott might scold. Besides,
every star is a lantern to-night. And Uncle sent Hughie for you long
ago."

Kenny groaned.

CHAPTER XX

THE CHAIR BY THE FIRE

He went with her as far as he dared, and turned back with shining eyes
and stumbling feet. He did not afterward remember his supper or what
he had eaten, though Hannah at his command had set the table in the
kitchen and Hughie had talked sensibly of pumpkins. He did not
remember climbing the stairs to Adam's room. The one thing that jarred
through his dreamy feeling of detachment was the old man's face.

"You're late!" he said.

"Yes," said Kenny happily, "I am." Even now with Adam's piercing eyes
upon him, he had a feeling of invincibility; as if, aloof in the aerial
sphere in which he seemed to float, he could shut the old man out.

Adam stared at him with eagle-like intentness and a puzzled frown. His
face said plainly that Kenny's mood was without precedent and therefore
strategical. It behooved him to get to the bottom of it at once and be
on his guard.

"'Tis Samhain, Adam," said Kenny, "the summer ending of the druids.
And to-night the hills are open and the fairies are all out a-temptin'
mortals. I myself have heard the fairy pipes showerin' sweetness
everywhere. Wonderful music, Adam! Silver-soft and allurin' and the
kind you can't forget! It throws you into a trance and fills you with
beautiful longing. I forgot to come home. There! I must tell Hannah
to put a light under the churn to-night. Then the fairies, hating
fire, can't bewitch it."

[Illustration: "'Tis Samhain, Adam," said Kenny, "the summer ending of
the druids."]

Adam stared at him blankly. He was in mad mood, this Irishman. His
eyes,