ch of each other. It is worse than just that.
What little I know of you is not pretty knowledge. What little I have
told you of myself, what you have seen of my companions here, what you
have guessed, is hardly the sort of thing to make you choose me, is it?
You called me adventuress more than once. Are you sure now that I am
not what you named me?"

"I am sure," he answered steadily, his faith in his idol strong upon
him. "You are a sweet woman and a true, Ygerne. And if you
weren't . . . why, just so you loved me I should not care!"

So they passed from matters vital to mere lovers' talk that was none
the less vital to them. Drennen, having long lived a starving
existence, his soul pent up within his own self, opened his heart to
her and poured out the thoughts which not even to himself had he
hitherto acknowledged. He told of his old life in the cities; of the
shame and disgrace that had driven him an alien into a sterner land
where the names of men meant less than the might and cunning of their
right hands; of his restless life leading him up and down upon a trail
of flint; of disappointment and disillusion encountered on every hand
until all of the old hopes and kindly thoughts were stripped from him;
of the evil days which had turned sour within him the milk of human
kindness.

Two things alone he would not talk of. He laughed at her, a ringing,
boyish laugh when she mentioned them, one after the other. The first
was what lay back in her own life, the thing which had driven her here.

"Don't you want me to tell you of that?" she had asked, looking at him
swiftly.

"No," he had answered. "Not now. When we are married, Ygerne, then if
you want to tell me I want to hear."

His faith in her was perfect, that was all. He wanted her to know that
it was and took this method of telling her.

The other matter was his gold.

"You haven't told me of your discovery," she reminded him, again after
a brief, keen scrutiny. "Aren't you going to tell me . . . David?"

It was the first time she had called him David, and the foolish joy at
the little incident drove him to take her again to his arms. But with
a steady purpose he refused to tell her. He had his reason and to give
the reason would thwart his purpose. He meant to go to Lebarge and
attend to the routine work there in connection with a new claim. That
matter settled, and another, he would return swiftly to MacLeod's
Settlement. He would seek Y