ling, she looked over. Down below was a
whirlpool, rising and falling-a hungry funnel of death. She drew back.
Presently she peered again, and once more withdrew. She gazed round,
and then made another tour of the hill, searching. She returned to the
precipice. As she did so she heard a voice. She looked and saw Parpon
seated upon a ledge of rock not far below. A mocking laugh floated up to
her. But there was trouble in the laugh too--a bitter sickness. She did
not notice that. She looked about her. Not far away was a stone, too
heavy to carry but perhaps not too heavy to roll!

Foot by foot she rolled it over. She looked. He was still there. She
stepped back. As she did so a few pebbles crumbled away from her feet
and fell where Parpon perched. She did not see or hear them fall. He
looked up, and saw the stone creeping upon the edge. Like a flash he
was on his feet, and, springing into the air to the right, caught a tree
steadfast in the rock. The stone fell upon the ledge, and bounded off
again. The look of the woman did not follow the stone. She ran to the
spot above the whirlpool, and sprang out and down.

From Parpon there came a wail such as the hills of the north never heard
before. Dropping upon a ledge beneath, and from that to a jutting tree,
which gave way, he shot down into the whirlpool. He caught Julie's body
as it was churned from life to death: and then he fought. There was
a demon in the whirlpool, but God and demon were working in the man.
Nothing on earth could have unloosed that long, brown arm from Julie's
drenched body. The sun lifted an eyelid over the yellow bastions of
rock, and saw the fight. Once, twice, the shaggy head was caught beneath
the surface--but at last the man conquered.

Inch by inch, foot by foot, Parpon, with the lifeless Julie clamped in
one arm, climbed the rough wall, on, on, up to the Rock of Red Pigeons.
He bore her to the top of it. Then he laid her down, and pillowed her
head on his wet coat.

The huge hands came slowly down Julie's soaked hair, along her blanched
cheek and shoulders, caught her arms and held them. He peered into her
face. The eyes had the film which veils Here from Hereafter. On the lips
was a mocking smile. He stooped as if to kiss her. The smile stopped
him. He drew back for a time, then he leaned forward, shut his eyes, and
her cold lips were his.

Twilight-dusk-night came upon Parpon and his dead--the woman whom an
impish fate had put into his he