p a horse is not the most
exciting in the world. To what particular deed of violence do you
refer?"

"The last achievement, which is in every one's mouth, that of assisting
Mr. Tooting down-stairs."

"I have been defamed," Austen laughed; "he fell down, I believe. But
as I have a somewhat evil reputation, and as he came out of my entry,
people draw their own conclusions. I can't imagine who told you that
story."

"Never mind," she answered. "You see, I have certain sources of
information about you."

He tingled over this, and puzzled over it so long that she laughed.

"Does that surprise you?" she asked. "I fail to see why I should be
expected to lose all interest in my friends--even if they appear to have
lost interest in me."

"Oh, don't say that!" he cried so sharply that she wished her words
unsaid. "You can't mean it! You don't know!"

She trembled at the vigorous passion he put into the words.

"No, I don't mean it," she said gently.

The wind had made a rent in the sheet of the clouds, and through it
burst the moon in her full glory, flooding field and pasture, and the
black stretches of pine forest at their feet. Below them the land fell
away, and fell again to the distant broadening valley, to where a mist
of white vapour hid the course of the Blue. And beyond, the hills rose
again, tier upon tier, to the shadowy outline of Sawanec herself against
the hurrying clouds and the light-washed sky. Victoria, gazing at the
scene, drew a deep breath, and turned and looked at him in the quick way
which he remembered so well.

"Sometimes," she said, "it is so beautiful that it hurts to look at it.
You love it--do you ever feel that way?"

"Yes," he said, but his answer was more than the monosyllable. "I can
see that mountain from my window, and it seriously interferes with my
work. I really ought to move into another building."

There was a little catch in her laugh.

"And I watch it," she continued, "I watch it from the pine grove by the
hour. Sometimes it smiles, and sometimes it is sad, and sometimes it is
far, far away, so remote and mysterious that I wonder if it is ever to
come back and smile again."

"Have you ever seen the sunrise from its peak?" said Austen.

"No. Oh, how I should love to see it!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, you would like to see it," he answered simply. He would like to
take her there, to climb, with her hand in his, the well-known paths in
the darkness, to reach the summit in th