l. Presently, as the slope grew rockier and her discomfort
increased, she forgot everything except that she was suffering.

"Here is the trail," said Stewart, at length.

Not far from that point Madeline swayed, and but for Stewart's support
would have fallen from the saddle. She heard him swear under his breath.

"Here, this won't do," he said. "Throw your leg over the pommel. The
other one--there."

Then, mounting, he slipped behind her and lifted and turned her, and
then held her with his left arm so that she lay across the saddle and
his knees, her head against his shoulder.

As the horse started into a rapid walk Madeline gradually lost all pain
and discomfort when she relaxed her muscles. Presently she let herself
go and lay inert, greatly to her relief. For a little while she seemed
to be half drunk with the gentle swaying of a hammock. Her mind became
at once dreamy and active, as if it thoughtfully recorded the slow, soft
impressions pouring in from all her senses.

A red glow faded in the west. She could see out over the foothills,
where twilight was settling gray on the crests, dark in the hollows.
Cedar and pinyon trees lined the trail, and there were no more firs. At
intervals huge drab-colored rocks loomed over her. The sky was clear
and steely. A faint star twinkled. And lastly, close to her, she saw
Stewart's face, once more dark and impassive, with the inscrutable eyes
fixed on the trail.

His arm, like a band of iron, held her, yet it was flexible and yielded
her to the motion of the horse. One instant she felt the brawn,
the bone, heavy and powerful; the next the stretch and ripple, the
elasticity of muscles. He held her as easily as if she were a child. The
roughness of his flannel shirt rubbed her cheek, and beneath that she
felt the dampness of the scarf he had used to bathe her arm, and deeper
still the regular pound of his heart. Against her ear, filling it with
strong, vibrant beat, his heart seemed a mighty engine deep within a
great cavern. Her head had never before rested on a man's breast, and
she had no liking for it there; but she felt more than the physical
contact. The position was mysterious and fascinating, and something
natural in it made her think of life. Then as the cool wind blew down
from the heights, loosening her tumbled hair, she was compelled to see
strands of it curl softly into Stewart's face, before his eyes, across
his lips. She was unable to reach it with her free