hallenge and command in the use of her name.

"Absolutely."

"Come, then! I want you to go first. The rise is easy for a half-mile or
so. I can better watch out for you and catch you--if you make a misstep.
The stones are loose and mischievous; the path is ridiculously near the
edge of things. If one should--now do not get nervous, but if you should
go over, just clutch the bushes, the sturdy little clumps, and nothing
can really happen."

"I never get nervous in high places. Being used to dead levels, I have
the courage of the ignorant. Doesn't the air make one----"

"Heady?"

"Yes. I suppose that is it. Heady and--light-hearted."

Travers had his eyes fixed on the form ahead in its dark blue mountain
skirt and corduroy waist.

"I wish you would take off your hat," he said.

Priscilla obeyed.

"Thank you! Will you let me--love you?"

He noticed a tremor run the length of her body.

"Is--that in my giving?" Priscilla meant to play just a little longer,
only a little, and then she must make him see that because this sudden
and great thing had come to them both, they must prove themselves worthy
of it by unselfish recognition of deep truths.

"No. But I would like to have you say--yes! I meant all I said last
evening; you said nothing. I mean to have you, because I love you;
because I know you love me, and because nothing else matters. It's only
fair to warn you. You _do_ love me?"

"Is it love--when everything else is swept aside?"

"Yes."

"All but the longing--for the best?"

"Yes. That is love."

"Then, I love you."

"On ahead there is a tiny bluff, do not speak again until we reach it. A
strange and wonderful thing came to me there once--years ago. I want to
tell you about it, my beloved!"

Travers watched her as he spoke. Again that tremor ran through Priscilla.

It was nearly noon when they stopped, at Travers's word. They had come,
silently, up the trail, only their footsteps and their quicker breathing
breaking the awesome stillness. Their separate thoughts were bringing
them dangerously nearer together, trampling caution, warning, and purpose
beneath their young yearning for the vital meaning of life. When they
faced each other at last it was as if they had indeed been transfigured.

"Mine!" whispered Travers, stretching out his hands. "You are mine! Do
not struggle."

Priscilla put her hands in his, but did not speak.

"And now let us sit here. I want you to understand. You will tr