fanatics who
strike at random. His chief possession was a priceless one--a conscience.

As for Austen, it sufficed him for the moment that he had been lifted, by
another seeming caprice of fortune, to a seat of torture the agony
whereof was exquisite. An hour, and only the ceaseless pricking memory of
it would abide. The barriers had risen higher since he had seen her last,
but still he might look into her face and know the radiance of her
presence. Could he only trust himself to guard his tongue! But the heart
on such occasions will cheat language of its meaning.

"What have you been doing since I saw you last?" she asked. "It seems
that you still continue to lead a life of violence."

"Sometimes I wish I did," he answered, with a laugh; "the humdrum
existence of getting practice enough to keep a horse is not the most
exciting in the world. To what particular deed of violence do you refer?"

"The last achievement, which is in every one's mouth, that of assisting
Mr. Tooting down-stairs."

"I have been defamed," Austen laughed; "he fell down, I believe. But as I
have a somewhat evil reputation, and as he came out of my entry, people
draw their own conclusions. I can't imagine who told you that story."

"Never mind," she answered. "You see, I have certain sources of
information about you."

He tingled over this, and puzzled over it so long that she laughed.

"Does that surprise you?" she asked. "I fail to see why I should be
expected to lose all interest in my friends--even if they appear to have
lost interest in me."

"Oh, don't say that!" he cried so sharply that she wished her words
unsaid. "You can't mean it! You don't know!"

She trembled at the vigorous passion he put into the words.

"No, I don't mean it," she said gently.

The wind had made a rent in the sheet of the clouds, and through it burst
the moon in her full glory, flooding field and pasture, and the black
stretches of pine forest at their feet. Below them the land fell away,
and fell again to the distant broadening valley, to where a mist of white
vapour hid the course of the Blue. And beyond, the hills rose again, tier
upon tier, to the shadowy outline of Sawanec herself against the hurrying
clouds and the light-washed sky. Victoria, gazing at the scene, drew a
deep breath, and turned and looked at him in the quick way which he
remembered so well.

"Sometimes," she said, "it is so beautiful that it hurts to look at it.
You love it--do yo