t," he whispered.

She unbound her hair, and leaned over so that it fell in a flood on his
pillow. With a sigh of contentment he buried his face in the rich, sweet
masses of it. Gently, like the cooling breeze that had come to him in his
hours of darkness, her hand caressed him. He closed his eyes; he drank in
the intoxicating perfume of her tresses; and after a little he slept.

For many hours Joanne sat at his bedside, sleepless, and rejoicing.

When Aldous awoke it was dawn in the cabin. Joanne was gone. For a few
minutes he continued to lie with his face toward the window. He knew that
he had slept a long time, and that the day was breaking. Slowly he raised
himself. The terrible ache in his body was gone; he was still lame, but no
longer helpless. He drew himself cautiously to the edge of the bunk and
sat there for a time, testing himself before he got up. He was delighted at
the result of the experiments. He rose to his feet. His clothes were
hanging against the wall, and he dressed himself. Then he opened the door
and walked out into the morning, limping a little as he went. MacDonald was
up. Joanne's tepee was close to the cabin. The two men greeted each other
quietly, and they talked in low voices, but Joanne heard them, and a few
moments later she ran out with her hair streaming about her and went
straight into the arms of John Aldous.

This was the beginning of the three wonderful days that yet remained for
Joanne and John Aldous in Donald MacDonald's little valley of gold and
sunshine and blue skies. They were strange and beautiful days, filled with
a great peace and a great happiness, and in them wonderful changes were at
work. On the second day Joanne and Marie rode alone to the cavern where
Jane lay, and when they returned in the golden sun of the afternoon they
were leading their horses, and walking hand in hand. And when they came
down to where DeBar and Aldous and Donald MacDonald were testing the
richness of the black sand along the stream there was a light in Marie's
eyes and a radiance in Joanne's face which told again that world-old story
of a Mary Magdalene and the dawn of another Day. And now, Aldous thought,
Marie had become beautiful; and Joanne laughed softly and happily that
night, and confided many things into the ears of Aldous, while Marie and
DeBar talked for a long time alone out under the stars, and came back at
last hand in hand, like two children. Before they went to bed Marie
whisp