ned opportunity--much as it did after Jane left him one
other sunset evening when he had been looking into this same sort of
sky.

The little stream he followed soon crossed a narrow, tangled lane, and
this he knew would lead out toward Flat Rock; but, as he turned into it,
far down its shadowy aisle he saw Mac, tail up, smelling under a ledge
of rock for chipmunks.

There was no reason why the mountaineer should have sought a
hiding-place, except for the wildness in his being which pointed
cautionward; or, perhaps, feeling that Jane, not unattended, would be
soon in sight, he may have preferred a more auspicious moment to deliver
his gladsome tidings. At any rate, without giving much thought to whys
or wherefores, he gained the bank overlooking the road and nestled
securely in its foliage. Slowly, then, Mac came on, neither seeing nor
suspecting; and slowly after him two riders came into view, at the very
instant that the red sun dropped from sight.

When they were almost below him, when he suddenly realized the
indisputable truth that in Brent was an enemy to his ambitions more
formidable than poor Tusk had been, a blinding rage swept through his
brain which turned all things fiery as the west. Stealthily his hand
felt over the ground for a stone large enough to crush this importunate
engineer--this thief, who would steal his teacher and leave him stranded
in a barren school! One was there, and his fingers, feverishly yet with
caution, began to scratch away the loam which held it down. But then he
hesitated. Had he not told her that the greatest call of all calls,
whether it came from mountain peak or lowland, did not mean fight--it
meant surrender? Had he not told her this himself? And so his fingers
drew away from the rock. As he peered again through the bushes Brent was
saying something about losing a crystal palace--Brent, who had so
recently offered to take his place in jail! And then the horses stopped,
shoulder to shoulder.

Was it a new glory which illumined the mountaineer's soul at this
picture which followed there in the twilight? Was it something that had
been reflected from the face and closed eyes of Jane, as Brent drew her
into his arms? Had this glimpse of happiness, as he had never dreamed of
happiness--this ineffable sweetness of first confessions--this heat of a
kiss as pure as God's white crucible which would forever blend them into
one being for His service;--had these drawn the scales from th