town that evening, and these as quiet as
buzzards on a fence as they sat along the sidewalk near the hotel
smoking their cigarettes. The wind had fallen, leaving a peace in the
ears like the cessation of a hateful turmoil. There was the promise of a
cool night in the unusual clearness of the stars. Morgan rode away into
the moonless night, leaving the town to take care of its own dignity and
peace.

Morgan's thought was, as he rode away into the early night, to return
Stilwell's horse, come back to Ascalon next day, resign his office and
leave the country. Not that his faith in its resources, its future
greatness and productivity when men should have learned how to subdue
it, was broken or changed. His mind was of the same bent, but
circumstances had revised his plans. There was with him always, even in
his dreams, a white, horror-stricken face looking at him in the pain of
accusation, repulsion, complete abhorrence, where he stood in that place
of blood.

This was driving him away from the hopes he had warmed in his heart for
a day. Without the sweet flower he had hoped to fend and enjoy, that
land would be a waste to him. He could not forget in going away, but
distance and time might exorcise the spirit that attended him, and dim
away the accusing pain of that terrified face.

Ascalon's curse of blood had descended to him; it was no mitigation in
her eyes that he had slain for her. But he had brought her security.
Although he had paid the tremendous price, he had given her nights of
peace.

Even as this thought returned to him with its comfort, as it came always
like a cool breath to preserve his balance in the heat and turmoil of
his regret and pain, Rhetta Thayer came riding up the dim road.

Her presence on that road at night was a greater testimonial to her
confidence in the security he had brought to Ascalon and its borders
than her tongue might have owned. She was riding unattended where, ten
days ago, she would not have ventured with a guard. It gave Morgan a
thrill of comfort to know how completely she trusted in the security he
had given her.

"Mr. Morgan!" she said, recognizing him with evident relief. Then,
quickly, in lively concern. "Who's looking after things in town
tonight?"

"I left things to run themselves," he told her quietly, but with
something in his voice that said things might go right or wrong for any
further concern he had of them.

"Well," she said, after a little silence, "I don'