--no, not again,
cousin, not yet."

Then slowly the full wretchedness of guilt burned me, bone and soul, and
what I had done seemed a black evil to a maid betrothed, and to the man
whose wine had quenched my thirst an hour since.

Something of my thoughts she may have read in my bent head and face
averted, for she leaned forward in her saddle, and drawing me by the
arm, turned me partly towards her.

"What troubles you?" she said, anxiously.

"My treason to Sir George."

"What treason?" she said, amazed.

"That I--caressed you."

She laughed outright.

"Am I not free-until I wed? Do you imagine I should have signed my
liberty away to please Sir George? Why, cousin, if I may not caress whom
I choose and find a pleasure in the way you use me, I am no better than
the winter log he buys to toast his shins at!"

Then she grew angry in her impatience, slapping her bridle down to range
her horse up closer to mine.

"Am I not to wed him?" she said. "Is not that enough? And I told him so,
flatly, I warrant you, when Captain Campbell kissed me on the
porch--which maddened me, for he was not to my fancy--but Sir George
saw him and there was like to be a silly scene until I made it plain
that I would endure no bonds before I wore a wedding-ring!" She laughed
deliciously. "I think he understands now that I am not yoked until I
bend my neck. And until I bend it I am free. So if I please you, kiss
me, ... but leave me a little breath to draw, cousin, ... and a saddle
to cling to.... Now loose me--for the forest ends!"

[Illustration: "NOW LOOSE ME--FOR THE FOREST ENDS!".]

A faint red light grew in the woodland gloom; a rushing noise like
swiftly flowing water filled my ears--or was it the blood that surged
singing through my heart?

"Broadalbin Bush," she murmured, clearing her eyes of the clouded hair
and feeling for her stirrups with small, moccasined toes. "Hark! Now we
hear the Kennyetto roaring below the hill. See, cousin, it is sunset,
the west blazes, all heaven is afire! Ah! what sorcery has turned the
world to paradise--riding this day with you?"

She turned in her saddle with an exquisite gesture, pressed her
outstretched hand against my lips, then, gathering bridle, launched her
horse straight through the underbrush, out into a pasture where, across
a naked hill, a few log-houses reddened in the sunset.

There hung in the air a smell of sweetbrier as we drew bridle before a
cabin under the hill. I leane