ad seen her
for the first time and it had become the motif of her coming. When he
heard it he saw a vision of a beautiful young girl, singing and swaying
like a slender flower; and all about her was a golden radiance like the
halo of St. Cecelia. And to him it was a prophecy of her ultimate
success, for when she sung it she had won his heart. So he played it
over and over, but when he had finished there was silence from the old
town below.

Yet if Drusilla was silent it was not from despair for in the morning as
Denver was mucking out his tunnel he heard her clear voice mount up like
the light of some bird.

"Ah, _Ah-h-h-h_, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah."

It was the old familiar exercise, rising an octave at the first bound
and then fluttering down like some gorgeous butterfly of sound till it
rested on the octave below. And at each renewed flight it began a note
higher until it climbed at last to high C. Then it ran up in roulades
and galloping bravuras, it trilled and sought out new flights; yet
always with the pellucid tones of the flute, the sweet, virginal purity
of a child. She was right--there was something missing, a something
which she groped for and could not find, a something which the other
singers had. Denver sensed the lack dimly but he could not define it,
all he knew was that she left out herself. In the brief glimpse he had
of her she had seemed torn by dark passions, which caused her at times
to brood among the sycamores and again to seek a quarrel with him; yet
all this youthful turbulence was left out of her singing--she had not
learned to express her emotions.

Denver listened every morning as he came out of his dark hole, pushing
the wheel-barrows of ore and waste before him, and then he bade farewell
to sun, air and music and went into the close, dark tunnel. By the light
of a single candle, thrust into its dagger-like miner's candlestick and
stabbed into some seam in the wall, he smashed and clacked away at his
drill until the whole face was honeycombed with holes. At the top they
slanted up, at the bottom down, to keep the bore broken clean; but along
the sides and in the middle they followed no system, more than to adapt
themselves to the formation. When his round of holes was drilled he cut
his fuse and loaded each hole with its charge; after which with firm
hands he ignited each split end and hurried out of the tunnel. There he
sat down on a rock and listened to the shots; first the short