The Spectator., 1916-01-18

tnelr old line Of Warllke SternneSS.
 She looked again into the face of the mountaineer, the feudist, of the wild creature turning to stand at bay N | For a moment they remained mo- tionless, and her fingers rested on | his arms and felt the strain on his tautened biceps.
 "God!' he muttered almost in audibly.
 What is it?" she whispered, but he replied only with warning shake of the head.
 Once more he stood listening, then gently turned her so that his body
 was between her and the outside world. He thrust her back into the open door and followed her inside. What is it, Anse? What did you 1 hear out there?" Her face had gone | pallid and she clung to his arms with a grip that indicated no intention of | release.
 "Nothin' much. Just the crackin of twig or two; just some steps in the bush that was too cautious to sound honest; little noises that wouldn't mean much if didn't know what they i do mean. They weren't friendly sounds. They're after me- Who? What do you mean?" Her voice came in a low panic of whispering, and even as she spoke the man was listening with his head bent l toward the closed door He laughed mirthlessly under his | breath
 T don't know who they've picked out to get me. It don't matte. much | does it? But I krow they've picked l tonight. I've been lookin' for it, but | it seems they might have let me have tonight" His lips smiled, and for an instant his eyes softened again ;o tenderness. This was my night our night"
 Suddenly he wheeled and caught her fiercely in his arms holding her very close. and now her heart was beating more wildly than before-beat- ing with sudden and sickening ter TOT.
 He bent low and covered her tenn l ples and checks and lips and eyes with kisses.
 God knows, when l came here to. night" he declared, talking fast and 1 passionately, T didn't aim to ever go | away again without ye. Now I've got ! to go, but if come through, an there's | a breath or a drop of blood left in me, I'll be back. I'm a comin' back. dearest, if I live"
 l Her answer was a low moan.
 He released her at last and went ! over to the gun-rack l Standing before her shrine of guns,
 in her temple of disarmament. he | said slowly; Dearest. I was about 1 the last man to leave my rifle here, an l reckon I've got to be the first l to take it out again. I'm sorry. Will you give it to me 1r must l take it
 without permission?" She came slowly over. conscious l that her knees were trembling, and | that ice-water seemed to have taken the place of hot blood in her veins.
 If you need it." she faltered, take it, dear-nothing else matters Which enc shall l give you?"
 My own!" His voice was for the l instant imperious. It was almost as | if someone had asked Ulysses what bow he would draw in battle. "l reckon my own guns good enough for me. It has been till today" She withdrew the rifle from the | roply hprcolf and bo fOClr from h ar trembling hands, but when he had accepted it she threw her arms about him again and clung to him wildly, | her eyes wide with silent suffering and dread.
 The crushing grasp of his arms hurt
 her and she felt wild joy in the
 pain. Then she resolutely whispered:
 Co, dearest, go! Time is precious
 now. God keep you," i "Juanita," he said slowly, "I have | refused to talk to you in good speech.
 1 have clung to the rough phrases and the rough manners of the hills. but
 want you to know always. most only fiercely, but gently too. No ten derer worship lives in your own world. | If I don't come back. think of that. God knows I love you"
 Don't, Anse," she cried with a smothered sob. Don't talk like a soft
 muscled lowlander! Talk to me in your own speech It rings of strength. and God knows'-her voice broke, and she added with fierce tenderness, God knows, dear. eagle-heart, you need all | the strength of wing and talon to. night"
 Then she opened the back door very cautiously on the shadows that crept into inky blackness, and saw him slip away and melt instantly into the murk