ved the priest; but he felt that he must go away, must
flee from the misery he dared not face. Mark was big and strong; but
he cried at last, just as he had cried in boyhood when his stronger
brother had hurt his feelings, or his father had inflicted some
disappointment upon him; and a strong man's tears are not to be derided.

How long he thus lay, brooding and miserable, he did not even care to
know. A step aroused him from his stupor.

He looked up. A man was coming from the road toward the tree. He was
tall, handsome and dark of face, Mark thought, for the moon had risen a
little and the man was in the light. His stride was that of a soldier,
with a step both firm and sure. He looked straight ahead, with his
eyes fixed on the tree as though that were his goal. He passed Mark's
resting-place quickly and struck three times on the tree, which gave
back a hollow sound. Then he waited, while Mark watched. In a minute
the signal was repeated, and only a few more instants passed before the
doorway in the tree was flung open.

Mark saw the white-gowned figure of the lady of the tree step out. He
heard her cry "Luigi!" with a voice full of joy and gladness. The two
met in quick embrace, and the desolation of the watcher was complete as
he heard her speak lovingly to the officer who had at last come back
into her life. She spoke in French and--was it because of the language
used or of the unusual excitement?--her voice took on a strange elusive
quality utterly unlike the richness of the tones Mark loved so well,
yet remained vibrant, haunting in its sibilant lightness. Never again
would he hear it so. He longed to go, but there was no present way of
escape, so he steeled his heart to listen.

"You have come, my beloved," he heard her say.

"I have come, Carlotta. I told you that nothing could keep me. When
you wrote telling me where to come, and when and how to signal, I did
not delay one minute."

"I feared to write, Luigi. Perhaps they are even now watching you."

"I think they do not know I am here," he answered. "I have seen no one
watching. And who knows of our love? How could they know?"

"They know very much, my Luigi, and I am afraid I should not have
called you. But I wanted you so much."

"If you had not called me I should have died. Without you, how could I
live?"

"You love me, then, so much?"

"It takes great love to look up to you, Carlotta, and have I not
looked?"

"Yes, yes