fell silent, a deep content upon him.

Scarcely two miles from MacLeod's Settlement, and an episode offered
itself which in the end seemed to have no deeper purpose than to show
to the man himself how wonderful was the change wrought within him. He
had crested a gentle rise, had had for a moment the glint of a light in
his eyes and had wondered at it idly, knowing that not yet could he see
the Settlement and that this was no hour, long after midnight, for
folks to be abroad there. Then, dropping down into the copse which
made black the hollow, he remembered the old, ruined cabin which had
stood here so long tenantless and rotting, realising that the light he
had seen came from it. Lemarc? That was his first thought as again he
caught the uncertain flicker through the low branches. The man might
have been thrown in the darkness, his horse could easily have caught a
sprain from the uneven trail, slippery and treacherous.

"Poor devil," reflected Drennen. "To get laid up this near the end of
his ride."

His trail led close to the tumbled down cabin. Once in the little
clearing he made out quickly that a fire was burning fitfully upon the
old rock hearth. He could see its flames and smoke clearly through the
wall itself which was no longer a wall but the debris of rotted logs
with here and there a timber still sound and hanging insecurely. He
saw no one. Coming closer, still making out no human form in the
circle of light or in the gloom about it, he heard a low moaning, as
fitful as the uncertain firelight. And then, as he drew his horse to a
standstill, he made out upon the floor near the fire and in the shadow
of one of the hanging timbers, an indistinct form. For an instant the
low moaning was quieted; then again it came to his ears, seeming to
speak of suffering unutterable.

Dismounted, Drennen came swiftly through the yawning door to stand at
the side of the prone figure. A great, unreasonable and still a
natural fear sprang up in his heart; he went down upon his knees with a
half sob gripping at his throat. It was a woman, her body twisting
before him, and he was afraid that it was Ygerne and that she was
dying. Her face was hidden, an arm was flung up, her loosened hair
fell wildly about her temples and cheeks. Again the moaning ceased;
the woman turned so that her cheek lay upon the loose dirt of the
broken floor, her eyes wide upon him. A sigh inflated his chest and
fell away like a whisper o