s of
the mountains, was the old Chateau Bellaire wrapped about in its own
history as in a cloak of sable; in front of them, dozing upon the river
banks, was MacLeod's Settlement.

They were thoughtful-eyed, thoughtful-souled, their lips silent, their
hearts eloquent, as they rode through the quiet street, passing Pere
Marquette's, Joe's, finally coming abreast of Drennen's old dugout.
Drennen drew rein as Ygerne stopped her horse. Her eyes went to the
rude cabin, its door open now as it used to be so often even when
Drennen had lived there. Then she turned back from the house to the
man and he saw that tears had gathered in the sweet grey depths and
were spilling over.

It was the time of rich, deep midsummer in the North Woods which had
brought them back to the Settlement on their way to Lebarge. It was
the season of joy come again, the warm, tender joy of infinite love.

A certain thought, being framed upon Drennen's lips, was left unspoken
because to the girl the same thought had come and she had spoken
swiftly after her own impulsive way:

"You asked me to meet you once . . . at dawn," she said softly. "Do
you remember? And, instead of coming, I left you a note which I could
not have written . . . if I had not been mad . . ."

"That is gone by now, Ygerne," he answered gently.

"But," she whispered, "the dawn has come!"

So at last they came to the old log where Drennen had come upon her
that day he had hurled his love at her like a curse.

The flash of blue across the Little MacLeod might have been the wing of
the same blue bird that had called to them here so long ago. A winter
had come, had wrought its changes upon the earth and had gone; now it
was a deeper summertime; but, for all that, to-day might have been the
day set apart for this belated lovers' meeting.

Out of the thick darkness at last into the rosy dawn. Sorrow and
tragedy behind, covered deep in those shadows; love in front of them
and all that it promises to the man and the woman.

Ygerne slipped from her horse and went straight to the log, perching
upon it as she had sat that other day. Drennen, in a moment, followed
her.

"Ygerne," he whispered.

Everything forgotten but the Now, a thrill ran through the girl. She
lifted her eyes to his and smiled at him, holding out her arms. But,
in spite of her, her heart was beating wildly, the blood was running
into her face until her cheeks were stained, red and hot with it.

"Do y