all
I start?"

She had drawn closer to him instinctively; not that there was any
danger, for the stockade was high and strong--in fact, had been erected
with an eye to such emergency. Now they were strained together in a
close embrace, this time she returning his kisses with more than his own
passion.

"You are mine--mine at last, my heart, my life!" he whispered. And the
answer came back, merely breathed--

"Yes, I am. All yours."

And above, the myriad eyes of the starry heavens looked down; and
without, the horrible throaty growl of the ravening beasts rent the
night.

CHAPTER SIX.

AFTER-THOUGHTS.

If ever any man was in the state colloquially defined as over head and
ears in love, and if ever any man had practical demonstration that his
love was returned abundantly by the object thereof, assuredly the name
of that man was Justin Spence. Yet when the sun rose upon him on the
following morning he somehow did not feel as elate as he should have
done.

For, whatever poetic associations may cluster around the hour of sunset,
around that of sunrise there are none at all. It is an abominably
matter-of-fact and prosaic hour, an hour when the average human is wont
to feel cheap if ever, prone to retrospect, and, for choice, retrospect
of an unwelcome nature. All that he has ever done that is injudicious
or mean or _gauche_ will infallibly strike him as more injudicious and
meaner and more _gauche_ in the cold and judicial stare of the waking
hour. To this rule Justin Spence was no exception. His passion had not
cooled--no, not one whit; yet he awoke feeling mean. His conduct had
been weak--the development thereof shady: in short, in the words of his
own definition, "it was not playing the game."

The worst of it was that he was indebted to Blachland for more than one
good turn, and now, what had been his requital for such? The other was
his friend, and trusted him--and now, he had taken advantage of that
friend's absence. In the unsparing light of early morning the thing had
an ugly look--yes, very.

As against that, however, other considerations would arise to set
themselves. First of all, he himself was human, and human powers had
their limits. Then, again, the other did not in the least appreciate
this splendid gift, this matchless treasure which had fallen to his lot:
otherwise, how could he leave her all alone as he did, absent himself
for days, for weeks at a time? He had not always do