and in the mountains, was
not so sure. She knew that they had walked far, because not even the
smoke of Grafton could be seen now. Yet he was with her.

"Suppose we try that direction," she assented.

"And if it isn't right, we will try another; our train stays at Grafton
all day."

They walked on, saying to each other the little things that mean nothing
to others, but which lovers love, and Grafton yet lay hidden in its
place between the swells. The skies, changing now from a bright to a
steely gray, were unmarred by a single wisp of smoke.

Harley felt at last an uneasiness which increased gradually as they went
on; the country was provokingly monotonous, one swell was like another,
and the dips between were just the same; there were patches of brown
grass eaten down by cattle, but mostly the soil was bare; it seemed to
Harley, at that moment, a weary and ugly land, but it set off the star
in the midst of it--Sylvia--like a diamond in the dust. He looked up;
the mountains, before blue and distinct in the clear sky, were now gray
and vague.

"We must have walked fast and far," he said. "Look how that range of
mountains has moved away."

Sylvia looked, and her face whitened again.

"It is not distance, John," she said. "It is a mist. See, the clouds are
coming!"

The mountains moved farther away and became shadowy; the steel-gray of
the skies darkened; up from the southwest rolled ugly brown clouds;
there was a rush of chill air.

Harley understood all, and a shiver passed over him. But his fear was
for her, not for himself.

"It is going to snow," said Sylvia.

"And we are lost in this desert; it was I, too, who brought you here,"
said Harley.

She looked up into his eyes, and her face was not pale.

"We are together," she said.

He bent his head and kissed her, for the second time that day.

"You are the bravest woman in the world, Sylvia," he said. "Now we live
or die together, and we are not afraid."

"We are not afraid."

He put his arm around her waist, and she did not resist. Both expected
to die, and they felt that they belonged to each other for eternity. A
strange, spiritual exaltation possessed them; the world about them was
unreal now--they two were all that was real.

"The snow comes, dearest," she said.

Up from the southwest the ugly brown clouds were still rolling, and the
sky above them still darkened; the mountains were gone in the mist, the
chill wind strengthened and shrieke