y, in fact. It was the steadiness of a deep and
settled melancholy, through which his best efforts could do no more than
strike a feeble, weary smile.

Immediately upon the death of the herder, one of the men had ridden to
Meander and carried word to the coroner. That official arrived in the
middle of the forenoon, bringing with him the undertaker and a wagon.
After some perfunctory inquiries, the coroner concluded that an inquest
was not necessary. He did not go to the trouble to find Boyle and
question him, but he looked with a familiar understanding in his piggish
eyes at Agnes when she related the circumstances of the tragedy.

Coroners, and others who knew the Governor's son, had but one measure
for a woman who entertained Jerry Boyle alone in her tent, or even
outside it, at night. Boyle's associations had set the standard of his
own morality, as well as that of his consorts. The woman from up the
river, and the little bride from across the ford, drew off together,
whispering, after Agnes had told her story. Presently they slipped away
without a word.

Even Dr. Slavens, cool and just-minded as he was, felt the hot stirring
of jealous suspicion. It brought to his mind unpleasantly the
ruminations of his solitary days in camp among the rocks, when he had
turned over in his mind the belief that there was something of the past
between Agnes and Boyle.

He had not convicted her in his own judgment of any wrong, for the
sincerity of her eyes had stood between him and the possibility of any
such conclusion. Now the thought that, after all his trust, she might be
unworthy, smote painfully upon his heart.

When the others had gone away, after a little standing around,
hitch-legged and wise, in close discussion of the event, the doctor
sitting, meantime, with Agnes in front of the tent, he spoke of the
necessity of getting back to his claim. She was pale after the night's
strain, although apparently unconscious of the obloquy of her neighbors.
Nevertheless, she pressed him to remain for the midday meal.

"I've not been very hospitable, I'm afraid," said she; "but this thing
has stunned me. It seems like it has taken something away from the
prospect of life here."

"Yes, it has taken something away," he responded, gravely thoughtful,
his look bent upon the ground.

She sprang up quickly, a sharp little cry upon her lips as if from the
shock of a blow from a hand beloved.

"I saw it in their eyes!" she cried. "But