hs which lead to peril,
or would you pursue them fearlessly to the end--even, if need be,
unto death?"

A sudden, intense light leaped into her eyes. She put forth her
hand, which she had withdrawn gently from his ardent clasp, and
laid it lightly upon his shoulder.

"It is not what I would do, what I would say, Anthony. The charge
is given by the Spirit of God: 'Be thou faithful unto death, and I
will give thee the crown of life.'"

He took her hand and kissed it passionately.

"That crown will I win, my Freda," he cried, "for I will be
faithful unto death!"

There was a curious mingling of tenderness and admiration in the
glance she bent upon him. He was a goodly youth to look at, tall
and strongly knit in figure, upright as a young spruce fir, with a
keen, dark-skinned face, square in outline and with a peculiar
mobility of expression. The eyes were black and sparkling, and the
thick, short, curling hair was sombre as the raven's wing. There
was no lack of intellect in the face, but the chief characteristic
was its eager intensity of ever-changing expression.

The girl facing him was as straight and almost as tall as he, but
slender and graceful as a young deer. Her hood had fallen back from
her chestnut locks, which glistened in the sunshine like burnished
copper. Her eyes were of a curious tawny tint, not unlike the
colour of her hair, and her complexion was delicately fair, just
tinged with rose colour at the cheeks, but of a creamy pallor
elsewhere. Her features were delicate and regular, and she, too,
was remarkable for the look of intellect in the broad brow and
deep, steadfast eyes.

Their expression at this moment, as they were fixed upon Dalaber,
was one which thrilled him to his heart's core.

He had been filled with a passion of self renunciation inspired by
her words. But as he gazed into her eyes, something more personal,
more human, sprang up within him. He put his lips once more to the
hand he held, and his voice shook as he said:

"Freda, I love thee! I love only thee!"

She did not answer. She did not withdraw her hand. Perhaps she had
known this thing before Dalaber spoke the words. She stood before
him, looking very earnestly and tenderly into his eyes. It was
scarcely the look of a young maiden who is being wooed by the man
she loves; and yet there was love in that unfaltering glance, and
his heart leapt up as he saw it.

"I ask nothing yet, Freda!" he cried--"at least, I ask only