and
through. And you are one of them, that's all."

"Is that so?" said Knight. "You know, that's rather--a colossal
thing--to say of any one."

"Then you are colossal," said Columbine, smiling more freely.

Knight turned aside, and picked up the sketch-book he had laid upon the
table on entering. "Are you sure you are not rash?" he said, rather in
the tone of one making a remark than asking a question.

"Fairly sure," said Columbine.

She followed him. Perhaps he had foreseen that she would. She stood by
his side.

"May I see the latest?" she asked.

He opened the book and showed her a blank page. "That is the latest," he
said.

She looked at him interrogatively.

"I am waiting for my--inspiration," he said.

"I hope you will find it soon," she said.

He answered her with steady conviction. "I shall find it tonight by
moonlight at the Spear Point Rock."

Her face clouded a little. "I believe Adam is going to take you," she
said.

"What?" said Knight. "You are never going to let me down?"

She smiled with a touch of irony. "It was the Spear Point you wanted,"
she reminded him.

"And you," said Knight, "to show the way."

Something in his tone arrested her. Her beautiful eyes sank suddenly to
the blank page he held. "Adam can do that--as well as I can," she said.

"But you said you would," said Knight. His voice was low; he was looking
full at her. He saw the rich colour rising in her cheeks. "What is it?"
he said. "Won't they let you?"

She raised her head abruptly, proudly. "I please myself," she said. "No
one has the ordering of me."

His grey eyes shone a little. "Then it pleases you--to let me down?" he
questioned.

Her look flashed suddenly up to his. She saw his expression and laughed.
"I didn't think you'd care," she said. "Adam knows the lie of the
quicksand. That's all you really want."

"Oh, pardon me!" said Knight. "You are quite wrong, if you imagine that
I am indifferent as to who goes with me. Inspiration won't burn in a
cold place."

She dropped her lids, still looking at him. "Isn't Adam inspiring?" she
asked.

"He couldn't furnish the particular sort of inspiration I am needing
for my moonlight picture," said Knight.

He spoke deliberately, but his brows were slightly drawn, belying the
coolness of his speech.

"What is the sort of inspiration you are wanting?" asked Columbine.

He smiled with a hint of provocation. "I'll tell you that when we get
there."

Her answe