es further along the course he
followed, she saw with horror round a bend that which he could not
see. She beheld another horseman galloping down from the opposite
direction. The face of this horseman was turned from her, but she
did not need to see it. She knew, as it is given in dreams to know
beyond all doubting, that it was Guy. She recognized his easy seat
in the saddle, the careless grace of his carriage. He was plunging
straight ahead with never a thought of danger, and though he must
have seen the turn as he approached it, he did not attempt to check
the animal under him. Rather he seemed to be urging it forward.
And ever the thunder of the galloping hoofs filled her brain.

Tensely she watched, in a suspense that racked her whole body. Guy
reached the bend first. There was room for only one upon that
narrow ledge. He went round the curve with the confidence of one
who fully expected a clear path ahead. And then--on the very edge
of the precipice--he caught sight of the horseman galloping towards
him. He reined back. He threw up one hand as his animal staggered
under him, and called a warning. But the thudding of the hoofs
drowned all other sound.

Sylvia's heart stood still as if it could never beat again. Her
look flashed to Burke Ranger. He was galloping still--galloping
hard. One glimpse she had of his face as he drew near, and she
knew that he saw the man ahead of him, for it was set and
terrible--the face of a devil.

The next instant she heard the awful crash of collision. There was
a confusion indescribable, there on the very brink of the ravine.
Then one horse and its rider went hurling headlong down that wall
of stones. The other horseman struck spurs into his animal and
galloped up the narrow path to the head of the ravine without a
backward glance.

She was left transfixed by horror in a growing darkness that seemed
to penetrate to her very soul. Which of the two had galloped free?
Which lay shattered there, very far below her in an abyss that had
already become obscure? She agonized to know, but the darkness hid
all things. At last she tore it aside as if it had been a veil.
She went down, down into that deep place. She stumbled through a
valley of awful desolation till she came to that which she
sought;--a fallen horse, a rider with glassy eyes upturned.

But the hand of Death had wiped out every distinguishing mark. Was
it Guy? Was it Burke? She knew not. She turne