her from across the fields the sound of a happy, cheery
voice that was singing. She listened, and knew that it was Jason,
chanting a song of Iceland after a night spent on the mountains; and
she looked and saw that he was coming on towards the house, with his
long, swinging stride and leap, over gorse and cushag and hedge and
ditch.

It was more than she could bear after such night-long torment, to
look upon the happiness she seemed about to wreck, so she turned her
head away and covered her ears with her hands. But, recking nothing
of this, Jason came on, singing in snatches and whistling by turns,
until his firm tread echoed in the paved courtyard in the silence
that was broken by nothing beside, except the wakening of the rooks
in the elms.

"She must be awake, for she lies there, and her window is open," he
thought to himself.

"Whisht!" he cried, tossing up a hand.

And then, without moving from where she stood, with her back resting
against the window shutter, she turned her head about and her eyes
aslant, and saw him beneath her casement. He looked buoyant and
joyous, and full of laughter. A gun was over his shoulder, a fishing
rod was in the other hand, at his belt hung a brace of birds, with
the blood dripping on to his leggings, and across his back swung a
little creel.

"Greeba, whisht!" he called again, in a loud whisper; and a third
time he called her.

Then, though her heart smote her sore, she could not but step
forward; and perhaps her very shame made her the more beautiful at
that moment, for her cheeks were rosy red, and her round neck
drooped, and her eyes were shy of the morning light, and very sweet
she looked to the lad who loved her there.

"Ah!" he said almost inaudibly, and drew a long breath. Then he made
pretence to kiss her, though so far out of reach, and laughed in his
throat. After that he laid his gun against the porch, and untied the
birds and threw them down at the foot of the closed door.

"I thought I would bring you these," he said. "I've just shot them."

"Then you've not been to bed," said Greeba nervously.

"Oh, that's nothing," he said, laughing. "Nothing for me. Besides,
how could I sleep? Sleep? Why I should have been ready to kill myself
this morning if I could have slept last night. Greeba!"

"Well!"

"You could never think what a glorious night it has been for me."

"So you've had good sport?" she said, feeling ashamed.

"Sport!" he cried, and laughed agai