the
time. As though by common consent the matter which had been under
discussion was left in abeyance.

"It is time to be moving," the girl said. "See, the sun will be down
in an hour. Let us have tea and then we'll saddle-up."

Tea was prepared, and by the time the sun dipped below the horizon the
horses were re-saddled and all was ready for the return journey. They
set out for home. Alice was in the cheeriest of spirits, but Prudence
was pre-occupied, even moody. That afternoon spent in the peaceful
wilds of the "back" country had left its mark upon her. All her
life--her world--seemed suddenly to have changed. It was as though
this second coming of love to her had brought with it the banking
clouds of an approaching storm. The two rode Indian fashion through
the woods, and neither spoke for a long time; then, at last, it was
Alice who ventured a protest.

"Where are you leading us to, Prue?" she asked. "I am sure this is not
the way we came."

Prudence looked round; she seemed as though she had only just awakened
from some unpleasant dream.

"Not the way?" she echoed. Then she drew her horse up sharply. She was
alert in an instant. "I'm afraid you're right, Al." Then in a tone of
perplexity, "Where are we?"

Alice stared at her companion with an expression of dismay.

"Oh, Prue, you've gone and lost us--and the sun is already down."

Prudence gazed about her blankly for a few moments, realizing only too
well how truly her companion had spoken. She had not the vaguest
notion of the way they had come. The forest was very dark. The
day-long twilight which reigned beneath the green had darkened with
the shadows of approaching night. There was no opening in view
anywhere; there was nothing but the world of tree-trunks, and, beneath
their horses' feet, the soft carpet of rotting vegetation, whilst
every moment the gloom was deepening to darkness--a darkness blacker
than the blackest night.

"What shall we do?" asked Alice, in a tone of horror. Then: "Shall we
go back?"

Prudence shook her head. Her prairie instincts were roused now.

"No; come along; give your mare her head. Our horses will find the
way."

They touched the animals sharply, and, in response, they moved forward
unhesitatingly. The old mare Alice was riding took the lead, and the
journey was continued. The gloom of the forest communicated something
of its depressing influence to the travellers. There was no longer any
attempt at talk. Each w