y mist-curtain drawn across their
higher ranks. The flood slid by, glimmering dimly, smooth and green, and
from out of the distance came the throbbing clamor of a rapid.

"It's your last look," said Lisle. "We'll be in the bush to-morrow and I
expect to hire a wagon, or at least a horse or two, in a few days. Now
I'm sorry I ever brought you here. You'll be glad to get away."

"You mustn't blame yourself," she told him. "We have only gratitude for
you. You have no part in the painful memories."

She glanced once more up the valley; and then moved back into the shadow
of the firs.

"It's all wildly beautiful, but it's so pitiless--I shall never think of
it without a shiver."

"You have made plenty of notes and sketches for the book," suggested
Lisle, seeing her distress.

"The book? I don't know that I shall ever finish it. I feel cut adrift,
as if there were no use in working and I hadn't a purpose left. First
George went, and then Clarence--so far, there was always some one to
think of--and now I'm all alone."

She broke out into open sobbing and Lisle, feeling very sympathetic and
half dismayed, awkwardly tried to soothe her.

"I'm better," she said at last. "It was very foolish, but I couldn't help
it. I think we'll go back to the others."

He gave her his arm, for the way was rough, but as they approached the
camp she stopped a moment amid the shadow and stillness of the great fir
trunks.

"I have done with the river--I think I am afraid of it," she confessed.
"Can't we get away early to-morrow?"

Lisle said it should be arranged and she turned to him gratefully.

"One can always rely on you! You're just like George was in many ways.
It's curious that whenever I'm in trouble I think of him--"

She seemed on the verge of another breakdown, and she laid her hand in
his for a moment before she went from him hurriedly with a low, "Good
night!"

Lisle strolled back to the river and lighted his pipe. He had noticed and
thought it significant that she spoke more of the brother whom she had
lost several years ago than of the lover who had perished recently; but,
from whatever cause it sprung, her distress troubled him.

His thoughts were presently interrupted by Nasmyth.

"There's a thing I'd better tell you, Vernon," he said, sitting down near
by. "The night you were half drowned I emptied the cache and, without
making any note of what was in it, pitched everything into the river."

"So I discovered. A