return
within a week, and suggested that this would be a good opportunity of
speaking of their engagement to Jocelyn. "But I wish you were not
going," she said. "I feel as if I shall lose you."

They had determined to devote the last day of his stay to visiting the
top of Slieveannilaun, where there were plenty of grouse. The plan
gave them an excuse for a day of the most absolute solitude and the
shooting that she had promised him long ago in Dublin. Biddy would cut
sandwiches for them and Gabrielle would carry them in a game-bag slung
over her shoulders.

At dawn a mist of sea-fog overspread the country-side, and Radway,
gazing through the open window, saw the fine stuff driven down the
valley in sheets against the darkness of the woods; but by the time
that they had finished breakfast the sun had broken through, soaring
magnificently in the moist air and promising a greater heat than ever.
Jocelyn, on the stone terrace, watched them depart. "I wish I were
going with you," he said with a twinkle, "but it's a job for young
people. Collar-work all the way, and you'll find the grass on the
mountain as slippery as ice." They left him, laughing. He liked
Radway. Gabrielle might easily do worse. At the edge of the wood she
turned and waved her handkerchief; but Jocelyn was tossing biscuits to
his favourite spaniel Moira and did not see.

They climbed Slieveannilaun happily, for they were young and full of
vigour. Gabrielle was quieter and more serious than usual, under the
shadow of his going. He killed two and a half brace of grouse. It
pleased her to see the ease and precision with which his gun came up.

Near the place where they lunched they saw three fox cubs running with
their mother, a sight that filled Gabrielle with delight. On a stone
near by them a small mouse-coloured bird, a meadow pipit, made a noise,
_tick-tick_, like the ferrule of a walking-stick on stone. From this
exalted station they could no longer see Roscarna, for the house and
the woods were lost in the immense trough beneath them. They only saw
the Corrib and the lakes of Iar Connaught and, beyond, an immense bow
of sea.

"I hate the sea," she said. "It will take you away from me."

"You can't hate it more than I do," he said laughing. "All sailors
hate the sea. But somehow, I don't think I was ever born to be
drowned."

The sunshine made them sleepy and they lay down in the heather. He lay
there with his head on her br