o
the Druid stone beside the Tober an Sidhe, the fairies' well. The
mist, golden and green, that comes with an autumn sunset, half hid,
half transfigured the wide distances of the valley of the Broadwater;
the darkness of the woods, blended from this aspect into one, of Mount
Music and Coppinger's Court, was softened by its veils; the far hills
were transparent, as if the light had fused them to clearest brown,
and topaz, and opal glass. The hill side, above and beneath them,
glowed and smouldered with the ruby-purple of heather.

Christian and Larry stood in the path beside the ancient stone and
looked out over the valley; the vastness and the glory of the great
prospect whelmed them like a flood, the sense of imminence that was
over them strung their nerves to vibrating and held them silent.

"My God!" sighed Larry, at last, trembling, turning to her who had
never failed to understand him, "Christian! it's too beautiful--the
world is too big--I can't bear it alone--" He caught her arm.
"You've got to help me. Oh Christian!--"

Christian turned her face from him.

"I believe I could," she said in a very low voice.

Even as she spoke, the truth broke out of her soul and ran through
her, running from her soul to his, like the flame of oil spilled upon
clear water. A voice cried a warning in her heart. "Too late!" she
answered it with triumph.

"Darling!" said Larry, holding her close.

* * * * *

The sunset

"bloomed and withered on the hill
Like any hill-flower";

but long those two stood by the Druid stone, knowing, perhaps, the
best moment that life could give them, facing the dying radiance with
hearts that were full of sunrise.

CHAPTER XXVII

Doctor Francis Mangan, driving his car at something even more than his
usual high rate of speed, to the Parochial House, a mile or so from
the town of Cluhir, what time the sun's last rays were falling upon
the Druid stone on Cnochan an Ceoil Sidhe, would have been far from
pleased had he seen what the sun then saw. On their knees by the Tober
an Sidhe, Larry and Christian were looking into the tiny cave in which
the fairy water rose, and were giving each to each their plighting
word, the old word that they had known since they were children:

"While water stands in Tubber an shee,
My heart in your hands, your heart in me,"

and, observing scrupulously the prescribed rite, were drinking a
mo