moistened his lips,
and recovering himself, said:

"Must I be afraid for two, then?"

"For two," said the Crab, "and as many more as may come after."

"My brother, the Bull, had a better fate," said Leo, sullenly. "He is
alone."

A hand covered his mouth before he could finish the sentence, and he
found the Girl in his arms. Woman-like, she had not stayed where Leo
had left her, but had hastened off at once to know the worst, and
passing all the other Houses, had come straight to Cancer.

"That is foolish," said the Girl whispering. "I have been waiting in
the dark for long and long before you came. _Then_ I was afraid. But
now----" She put her head down on his shoulder and sighed a sigh of
contentment.

"I am afraid now," said Leo.

"That is on my account," said the Girl. "I know it is, because I am
afraid for your sake. Let us go, husband."

They went out of the darkness together and came back to the Earth,
Leo very silent, and the Girl striving to cheer him. "My brother's
fate is the better one," Leo would repeat from time to time, and at
last he said: "Let us each go our own way and live alone till we die.
We were born into the House of Cancer, and he will come for us."

"I know; I know. But where shall I go? And where will you sleep in the
evening? But let us try. I will stay here. Do you go on."

Leo took six steps forward very slowly, and three long steps backward
very quickly, and the third step set him again at the Girl's side.
This time it was she who was begging him to go away and leave her, and
he was forced to comfort her all through the night. That night decided
them both never to leave each other for an instant, and when they had
come to this decision they looked back at the darkness of the House of
Cancer high above their heads, and with their arms round each other's
necks laughed, "Ha! ha! ha!" exactly as the children of men laughed.
And that was the first time in their lives that they had ever laughed.

Next morning they returned to their proper home and saw the flowers
and the sacrifices that had been laid before their doors by the
villagers of the hills. Leo stamped down the fire with his heel and
the Girl flung the flower-wreaths out of sight, shuddering as she did
so. When the villagers re-returned, as of custom, to see what had
become of their offerings, they found neither roses nor burned flesh
on the altars, but only a man and a woman, with frightened white faces
sitting hand in ha