should follow further the trail toward the Siddon cabin, which lay out
of his course. At the girl's suggestion that she should accompany him
a little way on the first stage of his journey out into the world, the
two turned back toward the broader path, which led to the southwest
until it met the North Wilkesboro' road. The two walked side by side,
along this lovers' lane of nature's kindly devising. They went
sedately, in all seeming, for the mountain folk are chary in
demonstrations of affection. Yet, beneath the austere mask imposed by
convention, their hearts were thrilling with the rapture each found in
the near presence of the other. The glamour of romance was like a
golden mist over all the scene, irradiating each leaf and flower,
softening the bird-calls to fairy flutings, draping the nakedness of
distant rugged peaks, bearing gently the purling of the limpid brook
along which the path ran in devious complacence. Often, indeed, the
lovers' way led them into the shallows, through which their bare feet
splashed unconcerned. The occasional prismatic flash of a leaping
trout in the deeper pools caught their eyes. So, presently, the girl
was moved to speak--with visible effort, very shyly, for the
expression of her love in words was a thing unfamiliar, difficult.

"I sha'n't have nobody to make flies fer now," she said dully. "I jest
hain't a-goin' arter the trout fer fun no more till ye comes back."

Zeke would have answered, but he checked the words at his lips, lest
the trembling of his voice might betray a feeling deemed inconsistent
with manliness. They went forward in silence, a-quiver with desire
each of the other, yet mute with the forced repression of custom. Now,
too, the sorrow of the parting so close at hand, colored their mood
more and more, so that the golden glamour first dimmed and then
changed into a sinister pall which overhung all the loveliness of the
morning. At a turn in the path, where it topped a rise, before
descending a long slope to the highway, Zeke came to a standstill. The
girl paused obediently beside him. He fumbled in a pocket awkwardly,
and drew forth a tiny square of coffee-colored stone, roughly lined,
which he held out toward his companion. The tracery of the crystal
formed a Maltese cross. The girl expressed no surprise. She accepted
the token with a grave nod as he dropped it into her palm, and she
remained gazing down at it with eyes hidden under the heavy white lids
and long