lost ourselves in it. Also I knew by heart certain little streams
that rushed and made guiding sounds which were sometimes loud whispers
and sometimes singing babbles. The damp, sweet scent of fern and heather
was in our nostrils; as we climbed we breathed its freshness.

"There is a sort of unearthly loveliness in it all," Hector MacNairn
said to me. His voice was rather like his mother's. It always seemed to
say so much more than his words.

"We might be ghosts," I answered. "We might be some of those the mist
hides because they like to be hidden."

"You would not be afraid if you met one of them?" he said.

"No. I think I am sure of that. I should feel that it was only like
myself, and, if I could hear, might tell me things I want to know."

"What do you want to know?" he asked me, very low. "You!"

"Only what everybody wants to know--that it is really AWAKENING free,
ready for wonderful new things, finding oneself in the midst of wonders.
I don't mean angels with harps and crowns, but beauty such as we see
now; only seeing it without burdens of fears before and behind us. And
knowing there is no reason to be afraid. We have all been so afraid. We
don't know how afraid we have been--of everything."

I stopped among the heather and threw my arms out wide. I drew in a
great, joyous morning breath.

"Free like that! It is the freeness, the light, splendid freeness, I
think of most."

"The freeness!" he repeated. "Yes, the freeness!"

"As for beauty," I almost whispered, in a sort of reverence for visions
I remembered, "I have stood on this moor a thousand times and seen
loveliness which made me tremble. One's soul could want no more in any
life. But 'Out on the Hillside' I KNEW I was part of it, and it was
ecstasy. That was the freeness."

"Yes--it was the freeness," he answered.

We brushed through the heather and the bracken, and flower-bells shook
showers of radiant drops upon us. The mist wavered and sometimes lifted
before us, and opened up mystic vistas to veil them again a few minutes
later. The sun tried to break through, and sometimes we walked in a
golden haze.

We fell into silence. Now and then I glanced sidewise at my companion as
we made our soundless way over the thick moss. He looked so strong
and beautiful. His tall body was so fine, his shoulders so broad and
splendid! How could it be! How could it be! As he tramped beside me he
was thinking deeply, and he knew he need not talk to me. T