t--silent--as the grave,
and above and beneath and on all sides the same absolute neutrality
of tint, vague and soft; yet the reality of the rugged mountain even
so obscured and covered, remained; its cliffs and crags below, deadly
and ragged, and fearful to look down upon, and skirting its sides the
long, weary trail, up which at that very moment a man might be
toiling, suffering, even to the limit of death--might be giving his
life for the two women and the man who had come to him so suddenly out
of the unknown; strange, passing strange it all was.

Again and again Harry rose and replenished the fire and stamped about,
shaking from his shoulders the little heaps of snow that had collected
there. The flames rose high in the still air and stained the snow
around his bonfire a rosy red. The redness of the fire-stained snow
was not more deep and vital than the red blood pulsing through his
heart. With all a strong man's virility and power he loved as only the
strong can love, and through all his brooding that undercurrent ran
like a swift and mighty river,--love, stronger than hate,--love,
triumphing over death,--love, deeper than hell,--love, lifting to the
zenith of heaven;--only two things seemed to him verities at that
moment, God above, and love within,--two overwhelming truths, terrible
in their power, all-consuming in their sweetness, one in their vast,
incomprehensible entity of force, beneficent, to be forever sought for
and chosen out of all the universe of good.

The true meaning of Amalia's faith, as she had brokenly tried to
explain it to him, dawned on his understanding. God,--love, truth, and
power,--annihilating evil as light eats up darkness, drawing all into
the great "harmony of the music of God."

Sitting there in the red light of the fire with the snow falling
around him, he knew what he must do first to come into the harmony. He
must take up his burden and declare the truth, and suffer the result,
no matter what it might be. Keen were all the impressions and visions
of his mind. Even while he could see Amalia sleeping in the cabin, and
could feel her soft breath on his cheek, could feel her in his
arms,--could hear her prayers for Larry Kildene's safety as at that
moment he might be coming to them,--he knew that the mighty river of
his love must be held back by a masterful will--must be dammed back
until its floods deepened into an ocean of tranquillity while he rose
above his loneliness and his f