e in the mornes!"

"Let them say what they will: we must have peace, Moyse. We have been
wretched too long. Oh, if we could once be up there, hidden among the
rocks, or sitting among the ferns in the highest of those valleys, with
the very clouds between us and this weary world below--never to see a
white face more! Then, at last, we could be at peace. Everywhere else
we are beset with this enemy. They are in the streets, in the churches,
on the plain. We meet them in the shade of the woods, and have to pass
them basking on the sea-shore. There is no peace but high up in the
mornes--too high for the wild beast, and the reptile, and the white
man."

"The white man mounts as high as the eagle's nest, Genifrede. You will
not be safe, even there, from the traveller or the philosopher, climbing
to measure the mountain or observe the stars.--But while we are talking
of the free and breezy heights--"

"You are a prisoner," said Genifrede, mournfully. "But soon, very soon,
we can go. Why do you look so? You said there was no fear--that
nothing serious could happen--nothing more than disgrace; and, for each
other's sake, we can defy disgrace. Can we not, Moyse? Why do not you
speak?"

"Disgrace, or death, or anything. Even death, Genifrede. Yes--I said
what was not true. They will not let me out but to my death. Do not
shudder so, my love: they shall not part us. They shall not rob me of
everything. You did well to come, love. If they had detained you, and
I had had to die with such a last thought as that you remained to be
comforted, sooner or later, by another--to be made to forget me by a
more prosperous lover--O God! I should have been mad!"

"You are mad, Moyse," cried Genifrede, shrinking from him in terror. "I
do not believe a word you say. I love another!--they kill you! It is
all false! I will not hear another word--I will go."

To go was, however, beyond her power. As she sank down again,
trembling, Moyse said in the imperious tone which she both loved and
feared--

"I am speaking the truth now. I shall be tried to-night before a
court-martial, which will embody your father's opinion and will. They
will find me a traitor, and doom me to death upon the Place. I must
die--but not on the Place--and you shall die with me. In one moment, we
shall be beyond their power. You hear me, Genifrede? I know you hear
me, though you do not speak. I can direct you to one, near at hand, who
pre