houlder. "Not
to-night," she whispered. "Sit here and talk to me to-night. I don't
want to go anywhere to-night. I may never love you like this again."

Nils laughed through his teeth. "You can't come that on me. That's
not my way, Clara Vavrika. Eric's mare is over there behind the
stacks, and I'm off on the midnight. It's good-by, or off across the
world with me. My carriage won't wait. I've written a letter to
Olaf; I'll mail it in town. When he reads it he won't bother us--not
if I know him. He'd rather have the land. Besides, I could demand an
investigation of his administration of Cousin Henrik's estate, and
that would be bad for a public man. You've no clothes, I know; but
you can sit up to-night, and we can get everything on the way.
Where's your old dash, Clara Vavrika? What's become of your Bohemian
blood? I used to think you had courage enough for anything. Where's
your nerve--what are you waiting for?"

Clara drew back her head, and he saw the slumberous fire in her
eyes. "For you to say one thing, Nils Ericson."

"I never say that thing to any woman, Clara Vavrika." He leaned
back, lifted her gently from the ground, and whispered through his
teeth: "But I'll never, never let you go, not to any man on earth
but me! Do you understand me? Now, wait here."

Clara sank down on a sheaf of wheat and covered her face with her
hands. She did not know what she was going to do--whether she would
go or stay. The great, silent country seemed to lay a spell upon
her. The ground seemed to hold her as if by roots. Her knees were
soft under her. She felt as if she could not bear separation from
her old sorrows, from her old discontent. They were dear to her,
they had kept her alive, they were a part of her. There would be
nothing left of her if she were wrenched away from them. Never could
she pass beyond that sky-line against which her restlessness had
beat so many times. She felt as if her soul had built itself a nest
there on that horizon at which she looked every morning and every
evening, and it was dear to her, inexpressibly dear. She pressed her
fingers against her eyeballs to shut it out. Beside her she heard
the tramping of horses in the soft earth. Nils said nothing to her.
He put his hands under her arms and lifted her lightly to her
saddle. Then he swung himself into his own.

"We shall have to ride fast to catch the midnight train. A last
gallop, Clara Vavrika. Forward!"

There was a start, a thud of ho